


Archangel Island

by fireroasted



Category: Mamamoo, Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: F/F, Fantasy, Romance, Supernatural Elements, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-04-04 14:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 65,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14022258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireroasted/pseuds/fireroasted
Summary: A love story between a werewolf and a vampire. On an island populated by all kinds of mystical creatures just trying to live out their college lives. That’s normal, right? Welcome to Archangel Island. Based on the work of @gymno_bot and @egabdraws.





	1. Welcome to Archangel Island

On a sweltering April morning, Moon Byulyi woke up in heat.

Sweat ran off her brow, her body lead against her mattress, and a distinct staleness of the hot air seemed to weigh heavily on her chest, but none of these sensations quite compared to how turned on she felt that morning.

She was no stranger to the discomfort of the morning after a few awkward dreams, but this sensation was beyond anything she had experienced before. Worst of all, she could smell her own arousal mixed in with the dead air, yet it was far too hot for her to move. It was, needless to say, one of the hardest mornings she could remember in a very long time.

Little did she know that it was only the beginning.

Eventually, she managed to roll out of bed and into the bathroom. Unfortunately, she was, like the rest of the neighbourhood, not prepared for the magnitude of her own screaming when she discovered the pointed ears on top of her head.

This was the day that Moon Byulyi discovered that she was a werewolf. She was, as her grandmother so graciously broke the news to her later that morning, a descendent from a long line of werewolves.

“Your transformation will be a little unstable, but you’ll be alright,” her grandmother said as she calmly sipped her tea. “Everyone on your mother’s side goes through this. There are very few changes you need to be aware of.”

“Grandma, I smell everything.”

“And you will need to cut a hole in your pants for your tail until you learn to hide it.You’re lucky it’s summer right now. Oh, and you’ll have to withdraw from your current college and I’ll have to pull a few strings and get you into Archangel Island. Fortunately, they start in a few weeks so you have some time to get used to your powers.”

"What? Where is that? What about my credits?" she cried. 

"I'm sure they'll sort it all out."

Byulyi buried her face into her hands. “What is happening?”

“Did you want to go to regular school with a tail?”

“N-no, but—”

Grandmother’s eyes hardened. “It’s not up for debate, Byulyi. You can transfer to another school if you really can't stand it.”

Her tail curled dejectedly in time with her wilting ears as she slumped down in her chair. She groaned, and resigned her fate. “What is happening?” she whispered again.

Her grandmother quirked a brow. “Look, I let your mom figure things out on her own and she turned out fine. You just need to try and figure out who you are--like a regular college student--and the school will teach you everything else.”

“But, grandma, is Mom…? Are you…? Can’t you teach me? Do I have to go?”

Her grandmother took another sip of tea. “There’s a lot to be learned about surviving and thriving in this world as a supernatural,” she said. “Too much for a little old lady like me to teach you, Byulyi. Besides, I’m busy. And ArcIsland is a nice place. We can't realy talk about it though.”

Byulyi frowned. “Grandma, all you do is play Go-Stop with the neighbourhood ladies.”

But the old lady simply changed the topic and continued sipping away like everything was fine.

In reality, Nothing was fine. 

 

That was how Moon Byulyi ended up at ArcIsland Women’s University, an innocuous-sounding name for a beautifully ancient campus on an island far from the main peninsula. As far as anyone knew, it was built by a mysterious and secret group of benefactors long before Dutch contact with Korea. It was a place so completely hidden from society, that even cell towers could not break the barrier.

“There’s no Internet here?” A girl beside her screeched as they disembarked from the ferry. A few people turned to her in horror, and quickly dropped their suitcases to check their own cell phones.

“How horrifying,” Byulyi heard someone drily comment. When she turned in the direction of the voice, her eyes widened in awe of the nine silver tails floating behind the girl. With one hand resting casually on her suitcase and the other on her hip, she was every inch the kind of person no one dared to mess with. She was stunning, and striking past 200% on the intimidation meter. The girl’s heavily made-up eyes slid over to Byulyi for only a moment—she couldn’t look away fast enough. Byulyi backed away, her single, lonely tail curling up nervously. And the girl wasn’t even talking to her. “To think that you’ll all have to get a life for a change,” she finished with a roll of her eyes.

It was quick to see why all the other girls gave her a wide berth. All, except one. A girl with a brown bob and a cute smile—one of the few seemingly “normal” girls on this island—strode up to the fox-tailed girl and gave her a slap on the arm—Byulyi held her breath. “Play nice, Hyejin!” She said.

“Whatever,” the fox-girl mumbled. “Let’s go.”

Her friend sighed. “How are you going to make friends?” She said, shaking her head.

“I don’t need other friends. I have you.”

The girl giggled, and the sound left Byulyi realizing that she was very much alone. All around her people were talking, either catching up or meeting new people, having had the day's journey to bond them together. There were a few lost souls with a dazed look in their eyes, but none of them seemed interested in being friends. Byulyi had, in a burst of fear and courage, attempted speaking with a sleepy girl on the ferry, but the girl had ignored her when she opened the conversation with, “Are you normal?”

Byulyi sighed and tightened her grip on the handle of her suitcase. Why did she have to be so awkward? She’d long accepted that social cues were hard to read, and now, with her senses overwhelmed and confused by her new were-powers, she can only hope she doesn’t start suddenly sniffing under girls’ skirts.

Who needs friends? She thought sullenly.

“Hello.”

Byulyi looked up, pulled from her thoughts in a split second when a beautiful girl with red hair and an angel’s smile approached her. Unsure of what to say, and overwhelmed by how good she smelled, Byulyi simply stared.

Did she have...fangs?

The girl shifted uncomfortably. “Um, hi. I’m volunteer guide here at AIU, and I’m here to help if you have any questions.”

Byulyi continued to stare. Her cheeks looked so soft, and she was just so, so, so adorable.

“Um, well, do you...need help with your bags?”

Byulyi shook her head, and mentally gave herself a small pat on the back for executing a normal human function without breaking herself.

“Okay,” the girl said slowly, looking increasingly uncomfortable under Byulyi’s intense gaze. “If you need help finding anything, just look for someone with a red band on their arm like this one.”

She was long gone by the time Byulyi had the sense to blink, leaving her alone on the docks, surrounded by the rolling fog and the hushed voices of a few passing girls giving her a weird look.

Byulyi sighed. She had hoped that becoming a werewolf would make her a little less awkward and skittish about social interactions, but she was an idiot to think anything would change. The only difference now was how intensely her senses distracted her, and that certainly didn’t help.

She followed the rest of the students deeper into the fog, off the docks, onto the shore, then up the stone steps and into the forest. They walked down a wide dirt path lined by a grove of massive green trees, a few stopping every few minutes to snap a photo of the iridescent leaves cutting through the fog. It was a long walk to the main building, but it was also a scenic route filled with trails to, as Byulyi would later find out, the clusters of buildings hidden in the woods. Including two two-storey brick and mortar mansions that doubled as dormitories.

Along the path, a flash of red suddenly caught Byulyi’s eye. She looked around, but the other girls simply kept moving. She glanced up at the green, yellow canopy—nothing. Perhaps she had imagined it. She had barely taken five steps when deep blood-red appeared and disappeared from the corner of her eye once more. She twisted around and narrowed her eyes—still nothing. What was it? A hummingbird? It seemed to be the right size.

When the red came around for a third time, Byulyi stood her ground and kept her eyes wide open. She did not, however, anticipate whatever it was to hit her square in the back of her head. And it was soft.

A gentle thump hit the ground, and she turned around just in time to catch a moment’s glimpse at a furry, red creature with ears larger than its body. Its wings folded, and poof! A cloud of red smoke revealed a very familiar face.

The senior from earlier, born from the smoke of what seemed to be a bat, suddenly appeared, sprawled on the ground as she clutched her nose. “That hurt,” she mumbled.

“A-are you okay?” Byulyi stuttered, scrambling to pull the girl to her feet.

“Yeah,” she said, flashing a shy smile that sent Byulyi’s heart racing out of her chest as she offered a shaking hand. The other girl continued to smile, but she shook her head and ignored Byulyi's hand as she pushed herself up. From what Byulyi could tell from her expression, the other girl didn't hear her heart break. 

The senior chuckled sheepishly. “Sorry for hitting you, by the way. I can’t see very well when I transform, and I’m just not great at being a bat. I'm still trying to get used to echolocation, but I don't realy like it”—she straightened out her skirt and pulled out a pair of glasses from her pocket—“Contacts are a bit complicated too, so I have these.”

Byulyi’s jaw slowly unhinged as she watched the girl put her glasses on, as if in slow motion. Innocently, she looked up into Byulyi's eyes with a crinkled smile, as if she didn't know her own charm. Unbeknownst to Byulyi, her tail began to wag.

The girl cleared her throat and took a step back. “Erm, my name is Kim Yongsun. What’s yours?”

Byulyi blinked.

Yongsun blinked back. Then she waved a hand in front of her face. “Hello?”

“Ah! Uh, erm, ah, me...I’m...I...Byul,” she stuttered, her words rushing out and tripping over in pure terror. “My name is Byul Moonyi. Yi Moonbyul. Byul...uh, I-I mean Moon Byulyi!” Her ears fell flat as she let out a sigh. “My name is Moon Byulyi.

Yongsun smiled. “That’s a pretty name, Moonbyulsshi.”

Byulyi fidgeted uncomfortably, her cheeks hot with embarrassment. Fortunately, Yongsun showed mercy. “Anyway,” she said, “we should get going. You don’t want to miss the opening ceremony.”

But of course, Byulyi couldn’t just let it go and move on with her life. Of course, she had to keep trying to speak to this vampiric goddess who was clearly just trying to be nice and helpful. 

“I-I’m...I’m sorry!” Byulyi cried to the girl’s retreating back.

Yongsun turned, her red hair transcendently beautiful against the curved canopy above them. “For what?” she asked. Byulyi averted her eyes before her beauty could pull the words out of her.

“I’m, uh…” Byulyi ran her fingers through her hair—her right ear began to twitch every few seconds if only to compound her nervousness. “I’m...you’re...ngh…” The girl watched her expectantly. The rest of Byulyi’s peers were long gone, leaving the two alone in the fog, waiting for the frazzled werewolf to remember how to function.

Eventually, the girl—more confused than anything else—turned away to resume her trek up the path, but not before Byulyi reached out to grab her hand. “Wait!” she cried. It took only a moment to realize how strange it must’ve been to suddenly grab this stranger’s hand, and another moment to drop it like it was on fire. Much to the other girl’s mounting amusement, she quickly apologized, and finally stuttered out what she wanted to say: “I’m awkward.”

The red-haired beauty confirmed with a slow nod.

“You’re beautiful,” Byulyi blurted.

But before the senior can reply, Byulyi darted off on all fours, faster than she had ever run before.

 

Moon Byulyi arrived with haggard breaths at the front entrance of a grand stone citadel at the end of the dirt path, where the rest of the girls had gathered in front of a pair of massive, iron doors. She dashed up the steps, and everything seemed perfectly normal save for her racing heart.

Normal, that is, until women suddenly started screaming as she approached.

In her urgency to get away, she had fully transformed into a brown wolf, larger than any that anyone has ever seen. Byulyi, feeling no different, however, was oblivious. Confused and exposed, she shrunk back down to the bottom step in a panic.

To make things worse, the fox-girl from earlier suddenly appeared at the top and descended upon her, tails flaring in all directions, eyes aimed to kill. Behind her, the girl with the brown bob followed, attempting to pull her back. “Hyejin, don’t,” she pleaded. But Hyejin shrugged her off, and Byulyi could feel everything shrink inside of her as she got closer.

Byulyi cast her eyes to the other women with a plea for help, but they simply watched the scene unfold, horrified and unblinking. She heard a whine—was that her own voice?

“Well, aren’t you cute,” Hyejin said, strutting toward her like the angel of death. “The big, bad wolf—think you’re the shit, huh?” Her nails—long and threatening—glowed blue; her eyes glowed murder. “Think you can scare the shit out of my Wheein and get away with it?”

“Hyejin, stop! I’m okay, seriously,” the girl cried, pulling her back desperately. “I’m fine!”

Hyejin said nothing, her eyes still trained on Byulyi.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Wheein whispered. “Please. Look, I’m sure she didn’t mean it. She looks more scared than I am...please, Hyejinie.”

“Oh, she better be scared,” Hyejin growled.

Byulyi shrinked back until she had no where else to go. She could almost see her life flash before her eyes, as they say, and lamented how little she had done in this short life. She was ready to resign her fate when--  

“STOP!”

A great gust of wind sweeps seemed to sweep through the entire island as a great shadow loomed above them. Byulyi dug her paws into the earth, and squeezed herself against the ground. Hyejin lifted an arm to block the rush of air, but found herself tumbling into Wheein behind her as shrieks and screams pierced the air.

Then it was still.

When the dust finally settled, a beautiful woman with a grand pair of wings had settled between Byulyi and Hyejin. Small as she was, she exuded nothing but power as she folded her wings behind her. Even her red arm band seemed ominous.  

“What is the meaning of this?” She said, her voice soft but somehow fearsome as she watched the women with golden eyes. 

Byulyi, naturally inclined to apologize, bowed her head. In the midst of her panic, she transformed back into her half-human form and muttered a string of apologies. Hyejin stayed silent, one arm wrapped protectively around Wheein’s shoulder as she glared at the winged woman.

Suddenly, the bushes rattled beside them, and a blur of white leapt onto the scene. What seemed to be a rabbit sporting a pair of antlers bounded up to the winged woman, then transformed into a girl with antlers keeled over trying to catch her breath. 

“Joohyun...unnie,” she rasped between gulps of air, “Why...didn’t you...wait for me?”

Joohyun crossed her arms. “I hardly think this is the time, Seungwan.”

Seungwan pressed a hand to her chest, inhaled deeply, exhaled, then straightened her back. “Unnie,” she said sternly, “please let me handle this.”

“Seungwan…”

But the girl was impervious to the daggers in her eyes. “You’ll just make it worse,” Seungwan said simply.

“You—“

“Please, unnie?”

Joohyun opened her mouth to protest, but when her wide-eyes, pleading puppy charm didn’t work, Seungwan’s two hands boldly smothered out her reply. “Sorry, unnie, but I’m not taking no for an answer. And if you sing at me, I’m going to be really mad! Are we clear?” Seungwan explained patiently. Her eyes narrowed at the younger girl.

Their audience watched with bated breaths as Seungwan’s hand came down. Arms slowly went up to shield from impending doom, but the winged woman merely huffed, and flew off.

“Sorry about that!” The woman with the antlers said with a grin. “My name is Seungwan, and I’m one of the guides,” she pointed to her red armband, “and that person was Joohyun. She seems scary, but she’s really nice! Just be careful if you feel like she’s getting upset. If she sings, you’ll fall in love with her for an indeterminate period of time, and that...can get messy sometimes. She’s one of the dorm supervisors here, so you want to stay on her good side. Ah, but you two,” she paused to give Byulyi a sympathetic smile, “let’s just hope you’re in the other building. There are only two dormitories here, so your chances are pretty good! Ah, anyway, I’m rambling, aren’t I? Let’s just apologize so we can all be friends!”

Hyejin stared, dumbstruck, at Seungwan, then glared at Byulyi, who finally recovered enough to stand up. “I’m not apologizing to her,” she said firmly. “She should be the one apologizing for rampaging around in wolf form. Asshole.”

Byulyi sighed. “It’s okay, it’s my fault anyway. I didn’t...I didn’t know,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck. “Sorry, everyone.”

Hyejin rolled her eyes. She had a whole slew of things she wanted to say, but Wheein tugged at her arm with a warning look. So she sighed. “Whatever,” she mumbled. “Can we go now?”

“Ohh-kaaay,” Seungwan said slowly, “we’ll work on this later. Well, look at the time! We better get going, or we’re going to miss the welcome ceremony.”


	2. Between Two Pets

The rest of the morning passed in a blur. The assembly hall were the high ceilings and the cold, stone walls. It must’ve been beautiful and grand with all the right levels of awe-inspiring décor. And the fact that the dean appeared to be a huge white dragon probably should’ve amazed her more, but the truth was that she couldn’t remember anything except seeing the two dorm supervisors on that red-carpeted stage, tiny specks beside the dean, but no less beautiful. Nothing seem to matter more than seeing the pretty, red-headed senior on stage next to Joohyun, who caught her eye several times with a kind of cool calm that bordered on murderous intent.

 

But once they were sorted into their dorm rooms via little cards, she couldn’t care less about Joohyun. In fact, the entire world became white noise, because she—Moon Byulyi, the luckiest woman in the world—was not only sorted into Kim Yongsun’s dormitory, she was going to be her roommate.

 

In the same room. With Kim Yongsun.

 

She stared at the cream-coloured placard with her name on it. Her name beside Kim Yongsun’s name. Under the same room number. The idea of breathing the same air as Yongsun every night swirled around in her mind for so long, blocking out everything else so effectively, that she may as well have been sleepwalking as she filed out of the assembly hall with the rest of the students. If it were a dream, Byulyi never wanted to wake up.

 

Oh god, what would she say?

 

What if she ends up hating her because all she did was stare?

 

Byulyi was halfway up the trail to her dormitory when she stopped in the middle of the path. A few students shoved past her—she didn’t know how long she stood there, but suddenly she didn’t want to keep going. Maybe it would be best if she didn’t enter the dream at all.

 

“Hey there!”

 

Something poked her in the leg, waking her up from the spiral slide of her thoughts. She looked down to see a red-eyed white rabbit with an impressive set of antlers stare back at her.

 

“Seungwan?” She asked. “What are you?” Her hand flew to her mouth, both ears dropping as if on cue, “Sorry, that was rude, wasn’t it?”

 

The rabbit laughed—her very human voice was more than a little bit disconcerting. “I’m a jackalope! I’m from North America, you see. You’d be surprised how many times I get that question. Even Joohyun forgets once in a while. I guess people get used to the horns after a while and assume I’m just a regular house bunny. I’ve been told I’d make a good pet. Mostly by Joohyun-unnie. She likes to tease me.”

 

Byulyi nodded, though she wasn’t sure she understood.

 

“Sorry, I’m talking too much again, aren’t I?”

 

“No,” Byulyi said, smiling. “But why are you here?”

 

“Oh! Of course! You just looked a little lost. Can I help you with anything? I can take you to your dorm if you like. Oh yeah, I meant to say congratulations for not getting into Joohyun-unnie’s dorm. You’re Yongsun-unnie’s roommate right? She’s very nice, but you should be careful too. You’ve probably noticed, but she’s a vampire. Make sure she’s well-fed or she might get angry. Also, Joohyun is her best friend so you better not upset her. It’s a nice building here isn’t it? I think you’ll find your room very comfortable. And if you don’t like your room, you can always request to be transferred to another one. Most of the rooms offer the same accomodations, but they might have different layouts. Some rooms have a dividing wall. I’m Joohyun-unnie’s roommate, by the way, so if you ever need pointers on surviving a roommate situation with a dorm supervisor, I’m your girl! I guess a good rule of thumb is to not break any rules? Most people agree that Yongsun-unnie is a bit more relaxed of the two, but that’s probably just because she smiles more. And she doesn’t really like using her bat form, though I kind of think she’s pretending because she’s actually pretty good at sneaking around. Just from rumours. Anyway, there isn’t really a curfew here, not that there’s a whole lot to do. Oh! Is the the gumiho from earlier?”

 

By the time Seungwan took a breath, they were already at the dorm and Byulyi was dizzy with information. In the main foyer, Hyejin stood beneath a grand candle-lit chandelier with a big furry ball in her arms.

 

“I’m pretty sure our room is that way,” she said, pointing down the hall.

 

“It’s upstairs! Check the key,” came another voice. All around them, the foyer was lively with students, but nobody seemed to be paying any attention to Hyejin.

 

“Who is she talking to?” Byulyi wondered out loud.

 

Just then, the brown ball of fur leapt out of Hyejin’s arms and came hurtling toward them. It was a small-ish, perhaps the size of a corgi, but as shaggy as a small bear. Even up close, Byulyi didn’t quite recognize the doglike creature, but the voice earlier—why did it sound so familiar?

 

The glare Hyejin gave Byulyi then was enough to freeze her blood, and she intuitively took a step away from the little dog running up to Seungwan. But it couldn’t be…could it?

 

Seungwan bounded forward to meet the creature, and the two animals sniffed the air around each other.

 

“Seungwanssi!” The little dog exclaims.

 

“Ah! You’re the girl from earlier!” Seungwan cried.

 

Byulyi wasn’t sure how to feel about the two human voices conversing in tiny, furry bodies, but she had to admit it was kind of adorable to see the two creatures circling each other, tails shaking in excitement.

 

“You’re Wheein, aren’t you? You didn’t tell me you’re a tanuki,” Seungwan said. “Ahhh, I’ve finally found someone who understands!”

 

“And you’re a…”

 

“Jackalope.”

 

“Wow,” Wheein said, running around the antlered rabbit, “I’ve never met a jackalope before! Can you shapeshift too?”

 

“Only into my human form,” Seungwan said sadly.

 

“Oh, me too. For now, I hope. Hyejin says I’ll be able to shapeshift later, but ah…”

 

“Joohyun says the same, but I think she’s lying to me to make me feel better,” Seungwan laughed. “I don’t mind though! It’s a lot easier this way. It’s not like we’re getting trained to save the world or anything.”

 

"I don't mind it at all! It's nice when Hyejin snuggles me too," Wheein said, turning around to beam at the subject in question. Hyejin tilted her head in response, but made no move to leave her post under the chandelier and join the conversation. 

 

"Yeah! Sometimes I sit in Joohyun's lap when she's working. It'd be a bit weird to do it as a human, you know? And it's such a different way of being held." 

 

"Ahh, it's nice, isn't it? It's easier to steal food when you sit in someone's lap too," Wheein laughed. 

 

"That's so true!"

 

Byulyi briefly recalled Seungwan’s comment earlier, and she had to admit that it was a bit like watching two pets discuss their relationship with their owners. She wanted to run forward and hug them both, but Hyejin’s glare from across the room pinned her to her spot.

 

Byulyi, not knowing where else to go, glued herself to Seungwan’s side for the rest of the afternoon. Unfortunately, Wheein also had the same idea, and wherever Wheein went, Hyejin followed. Thus, the two women found themselves reluctantly walking side by side as Seungwan showed them around the campus.

 

The main campus, where some of the classes are held, consisted of uniform blocks of buildings behind the main castle where the welcome ceremony took place. A towering glass structure was circled by rows upon rows of squat red-, blue-, and white-bricked buildings. “The tower—or the Spire, as we call it—is for flying classes, but there’s a nice restaurant up there too. You three will mostly be in the blue and red buildings. It’s where animal types like us have most of our classes. We don’t really have strict classifications, because you really get a whole mix of people here, but you’ll probably end up in the same classes as people in similar situations as you.”

 

Beyond the main set of buildings, the campus fans out further. “Through the trees here,” Seungwan explained, walking along a dirt path in her human form, “you’ll find the forestry and health faculties. There’s a path from there to take you to the science faculty. The arts buildings are closer to the docks. Humanities, language and linguistics, psychology, sociology, anthropology, business—they’re all in that area. The fine arts faculty is actually built on that cliff you see there. It’s a beautiful building—kind of like an old Florentine palace—but, ah, I’d probably change my major if Joohyun didn’t carry me to class every morning. It helps to be small sometimes!”

 

Hyejin squinted into the distance at the shadowy box above the trees. “So how do normal people who aren’t conveniently dating hot sirens get to class?”

 

At that, Seungwan laughed a little too loudly. She waved her hands erratically and blushed bright pink against her normally pale cheeks. “W-we’re not dating!” She cried.

 

Hyejin quirked a brow. “Could’ve fooled me,” she said.

 

Seungwan cleared her throat. “So, uh, normally...if you can’t fly...you can take a gryphon. They’re not the most comfortable and a bit temperamental, but they’ll get you there eventually. Ah, there’s a station right over here.” Beside an ivy-encrusted glass building was a wooden stable with the words ‘Gryphon Shuttle - Faculty of Business’ engraved neatly with red ink. Two gryphons were sleeping with their head hanging out of their stalls. One watched them with piercing gold eyes, while another two stalls were empty.

 

Seungwan approached the vigilant one with a smile. “Getting a ride with these beautiful creatures is an art in itself. Luckily, these are all young and specially bred, so we don’t have to sacrifice a horse every time we want a ride. They’re usually happy with an apple since they’re pretty well-fed here. The important thing to remember is that they’re very proud.” To demonstrate, Seungwan bowed to the beast, who closed its eyes and dipped its head in response. “So even if you offer ten apples, and she still doesn’t give you the green light, then you’re out of luck. You really don’t want to piss off a gryphon. I’ve heard they can also be a bit vindictive.”

 

Byulyi inched a little closer, but the creature’s white head snapped up and fanned its white feathers out in warning.

 

“Yikes, maybe they don’t like werewolves,” Seungwan commented unhelpfully. “That’s too bad.”

 

Wheein sighed. “I’m in the fine arts department too… It’ll be an adventure every morning, won’t it?”

 

Seungwan brightened. “Really? I’m sure Joohyun can give you a ride. You’re small enough in tanuki form.”

 

“No,” Hyejin growled, instinctively stepping out protectively in front of Wheein.

 

“It’s no trouble—”

 

“Absolutely not. I will not have that woman bully my Wheein while I’m not around,” she said, crossing her arms. “And I will personally tear out her liver if she sings to you.”

 

“Hyejin...you’re being ridiculous.”

 

Hyejin puffed out her cheeks. “No, I’m not. You’re cute, Wheeinie, and I don’t know what her intentions are. You heard what Seungwan-unnie said—they’re not together. So, I don’t want her preying on you.” Seungwan blushed, and looked markedly uncomfortable as she dug the toe of her shoe into the ground.

 

Wheein rubbed the bridge of her nose with a thumb and forefinger. “We’ll talk about it when the time comes, but I think you’re overreacting.” Seungwan and Byulyi looked at each other, then continued on silently to give them some space. But Byulyi’s ear twitched, and she couldn’t help but catch Wheein’s words: “I know you care, but you don’t have to be so protective of me all the time, Hyejinie. You are the woman I fell in love with, and no siren or succubus or whatever can change that. You know that right?”

 

Hyejin did not reply.

 

 

When the dinner bell rang, Hyejin, Wheein, and Byulyi waved goodbye to Seungwan, who parted down the path to the neighbouring dorm. Dinner was buffet style and filled with awkward silence as Byulyi, unsure what the proper social protocol might be, followed Hyejin and Wheein to an empty table. She sat beside Wheein, but neither her nor Hyejin—intent as they were to continue their earlier discussion by stewing in unresolved anger and sexual tension—seemed to notice her presence at all.

 

She ate quickly and excused herself quietly before returning to her own room. All the while, she thought back to the days events, unreal as they were. She still couldn’t believe she transformed—that she was a giant wolf, and that having visible ears and a tail was probably the least of her concerns. Most of all, she still couldn’t believe she shared a room with Kim Yongsun.

 

The moment she walked into her new room, she was hit with the powerful scent of something undefinable. Something vaguely floral, with a hint of something else. Whatever it was, it nearly sent her sprawling to the floor—it smelled so damn good. She staggered to the centre of the plush carpet, and laid down, trying her best to resist the temptation to shove her nose into everything Yongsun owned. The scent drew her in and threatened to drown her.

 

Worse, it was turning her on like nothing before. More than any of her previous post-werewolf misfortunes.

 

Byulyi glued herself to the carpet as she admired the room. The room itself was spacious, simple, and clean. She had a desk, a bed, and a shelf, and she didn’t need much more than that. They had a shared walk-in closet with a folding door swept to one side, where half the space was bare. She could just make out Yongsun’s row of clothes.

 

Perhaps she could...just a little.

 

“Moon Byulyi, you creep,” she muttered to herself. She could almost imagine the horror on Yongsun’s face if she ever came in to find her weirdo roommate rolling around in her clothes. Byulyi squeezed her eyes shut. Perhaps she can unpack and distract herself. She glanced at the pile of suitcases on her bed, and felt her heart drop—she really didn’t have the energy to unpack right now. Maybe she could just sleep these sensations away. The carpet was plenty comfortable.

 

Yes, the carpet will do just fine.

 

It was pitch black when she awoke to the sound of her door squeaking open.

 

“Yongsun-ah, what are you doing?” The voice in the doorway shot Byulyi’s heart out of her chest. It was unmistakably the soft voice of the siren, but softer still somehow without the stern edge. What was she doing here?

 

“Sorry, just a little bit? Please?”

 

Byulyi’s ears perked up. It was clear that Yongsun was friends with Joohyun, but that was not the kind of pleading tone you’d normally reserve for friends. A familiar ache gnawed at her chest when she heard the rustle of fabric, but she shook herself mentally—she had no reason to be upset over a pair of strangers, after all. Instead, she focused her energies on trying to stay as still as possible. Hopefully they wouldn’t notice, because she was not prepared for the kind of awkward encounter this was bound to create.

 

“Ah, be gentle,” said Joohyun. “You’re always so aggressive when you’re hungry.”

 

“Sorry,” Yongsun replied with a sheepish chuckle. “It’s because I know you don’t stay mad at me.” Byulyi heard the wet pop of a kiss, followed by a low groan. She could feel her whole body flush, and more than ever, she wanted to rip off her ears as the wet noises continued.

 

A series of muffled noises later, Joohyun spoke again, slightly out of breath for reasons Byulyi did not want to imagine. Still, she could not deny her curiosity as she listened in on their whispered conversation, and even though she felt like a creep, it was one of the few times her newfound abilities could be construed as helpful.  

 

“Do you feel better?” Joohyun asked.

 

“Yes, thank you. I really needed that.”

 

“Good.”

 

“You should probably get back. Seungwan is probably waiting for you.”

 

Joohyun sighed. “That girl worries too much.”

 

“She just cares about you, you know.”

 

“Nn.”

 

“Well?”

 

“Fine, fine, I’ll go. Just be careful. That werewolf...I can’t help but worry.”

 

“I’ll be fine.”

 

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay with us?”

 

“I can take care of myself, Joohyun.”

 

“Still.”

 

“Your girlfriend is waiting.”

 

“W-what? Stop it! You know she’s not my girlfriend.”

 

“Do I know that?” Yongsun teased. “I know how much you want her to be.”

 

“Ugh, I’m leaving. I’m not having this conversation again.”

 

“Good night.”

 

“Good night.”

 

A shuffle, a clack, and a high-pitched yelp later, Byulyi knew she had been discovered.

 

“...Byulyi?”

 

She remembered her name! Byulyi could almost cry—if she weren’t so busy faking sleep. And trying to ignore the fact that her intoxicating scent was getting closer and closer.

 

“Aigo, why are you sleeping here?”

 

Yongsun crossed the room and, as quietly as possible, lowered Byulyi’s suitcases to the carpet at the foot of her bed. Suddenly, warm hands cradled Byulyi’s back and legs, and lifted her up, as if she were no heavier than a puppy.

 

But, unprepared for the sudden contact, Byulyi’s charade was up: her eyes flew open, arms and legs flailing in Yongsun’s arms. Yongsun yelped, and would’ve dropped Byulyi onto the carpet if Byulyi hadn’t suddenly wrapped her arms around her neck and shoulders. Instead, they fell forward.

 

Onto the bed.

 

Yongsun on top of Byulyi.

 

Could the scent of someone’s hair and skin be enough to drown a person? Or at least, overwhelm a person so entirely that it momentarily incapacitates a person? Perhaps if you are a werewolf, because Byulyi couldn’t remember anything after that. She blacked out entirely.

 

When she woke up a minute later, it had felt like a lifetime. She wasn’t even fully sure she was awake when she saw the glow of red eyes boring into her own. No she must've been dreaming still. 

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Ah, the concern in Yongsun’s voice seemed so real. Byulyi smiled. “Now I am,” she said, reaching out to gently cradle her cheek.

 

“W-what?” She said, eyes wide and cheeks pink.

 

Yongsun pulled back from her touch, and watched the moment of realization unfold on Byulyi’s face like a movie as horror dawned in slow motion. Cornered and terrified, she took the instinctive action—she burrowed. Under her blanket’s illusion of security, she prayed that she was, in fact, still dreaming. Or at least for Yongsun to forget what happened in any way, shape, or form. Fortunately, it wasn’t long before she felt the weight beside her shift, then disappear altogether. Still, her beating heart would not calm, and the scent of her was so intoxicating. 

By the time she found the courage to dig herself out of her blankets, Yongsun was a faraway lump on the other side of the room.


	3. First Day Blues

Byulyi didn’t see Yongsun in their room the next morning. In fact, she didn’t see her again in their room for a while. Their schedules seemed to overlap, as far as Byulyi knew, and the ordeals of attending classes had sent her collapsing as soon as she returned to her dorm room. If she had more energy, she might even miss Yongsun’s pretty face.

 

Her first day had been nothing short of a disaster. Her first class was moved to the fine arts building, even though she was a business major. And of course, as if yesterday had been a premonition of her woes to come, she had absolutely zero luck at the Gryphon Station beside her dorm. Twenty minutes of coaxing later, she turned to yelling, which went extremely poorly. After being headbutted several times by a brown and white speckled gryphon she named Asshole Bird—or Asbi for short—the proud, independent gryphon finally allowed her to climb aboard.

 

Except, he decided to drop her off at the top of a tree, so by the time she arrived at her first class, it was already over.

 

She could still remember Asbi’s smug expression as he turned up his beak at her. It was like he wanted to teach her a lesson, and Byulyi was convinced this was true when he dropped her off five minutes early at her next class in one of the squat blue buildings around the Spire, then shoved her to the ground with his giant head.

 

A crowd of students watched as Asbi then strutted over and rolled her over with his beak. “What do you want from me? I don’t have anymore food!” Byulyi cried with a mouthful of dust. True enough, Asbi had eaten every edible object she possessed that day. The students murmured. Asbi rolled her over again so that she laid on her back.

 

Byulyi almost wanted to cry.

 

Fortunately, the higher powers must’ve heard her plea when an angel from above appeared at her side. “Hyperion, stop!” A dark-haired woman with the most captivating smile and a small pair of curved horns charged up to the speckled gryphon. She reached out—he reeled back and gave a fierce roar, but she stood her ground. “Hyperion,” she said firmly. The mighty gryphon dropped his hooves on the ground, and kicked up a cloud of dust. A few students scurried back, but the dark-haired woman simply raised her arm to her eyes. A few whispered words later, Hyperion raised his head, turned around, and took off.

 

The other students dispersed, leaving Byulyi lying on the ground in awe. Maybe she shouldn’t have named the gryphon Asbi, she thought grimly.

 

The girl swung around, a huge grin adorning her face.

 

“Are you okay?” She said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Let me help you up.”

 

Byulyi stared at her offered hand, and nodded. Tentatively, She touched her open palm—her skin tingled at the first contact. Her ears perk up and an intense need suddenly fills her entire body, mind, and spirit. It was like watching herself being possessed in third person when she gripped the girl’s hand and tugged her close. “Wow, you’re beautiful,” she heard herself whisper.

 

Her semi-conscious internal self screamed.

 

The girl tried to pull away, resignation shining in her eyes. “Oh no, oh no,” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. “I always forget.”

 

Byulyi watched herself lean in for a kiss, and tried to pull back, but for a reason she could not explain, her lips were like a magnet. A very, very strong magnet. The girl craned back, clearly not loving for whatever was happening, but Byulyi kept pushing.

 

Byulyi was a fraction away when she finally managed to say, “I’m sorry, I can’t help myself. I don’t know what is happening.”

 

“It’s okay,” the girl sighed, pushing her back by the shoulders in a futile effort to escape. Unfortunately, Byulyi had an iron grip on her waist. “This happens a lot. Usually my friends are around to help me, but, ah, today I may have been unlucky.”

 

“How do I stop trying to kiss you?” Byulyi asked, all the while trying to do exactly that. It was like her mind and body had suddenly separated. Her lips were so close and so inviting.

 

“You have to stop touching me.”

 

“I can’t,” Byulyi murmured. She could feel the shred of control she had regained begin to slip.

 

“Excuse me, can anyone help me tackle this person?” The girl calmly asked the passing students. But her tone was as flat as if she were asking to borrow a pen, and without that sense of urgency, they simply seemed like two lovers fooling around.

 

Suddenly, Byulyi heard her name being shouted from a distance—she could barely hear a thing with this girl in her arms. She recognized her name being shouted in a not-very-nice tone, but her body, with its one-minded mission to quite possibly eat the girl up entirely, refused to turn. All she could do was close her eyes and wait to be ploughed to the floor for the thousandth time that day.

 

Any moment now.

 

She leaned even closer; she could taste her breath.

 

Bam! A strong hand grabbed her by the shoulder, and pushed her back so powerfully that she missed her footing and found herself flying, floating—everything around her seemed to slow.

 

Just before Byulyi hit the floor, her senses were filled with a very familiar scent. And sure enough, when she next opened her eyes, she looked right into the red eyes of her roommate. She wore a stoic, unreadable expression, but beside her was a clearly angry Joohyun holding the jackrabbit Seungwan in her arms. Seungwan, even with her big, glossy eyes, looked very concerned.

 

“Ah, it’s okay, unnie,” her dark-haired saviour hurried out before anyone else could speak. “It was my fault. I forgot to wear my gloves today.”

 

Seungwan leapt out of Joohyun’s arms and into Seulgi’s. “Seul, are you okay?” She asked.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Ah, you shouldn’t be touching me though!”

 

“It’s okay in rabbit form,” Seungwan said, wiggling her nose. She snuggled into Seulgi’s neck for a hug.

 

“Wan-ah, I’m okay. Really,” Seulgi said, grinning as she encased her hands around the rabbit on her shoulder. “But thank you.”

 

Byulyi caught the darkening expression on Joohyun’s face, and she had a feeling it wasn’t entirely her fault. Still, she crossed her arms and directed the brunt of the blame to the curled-up Byulyi on the floor. “You should know better than to touch a succubus,” she said sternly.

 

Byulyi was baffled. “A what?”

 

“Didn’t you check the school Database?”

 

“N-no.”

 

“Joohyun-ah,” Yongsun said. She carefully touched Joohyun’s elbow. “We should go to class. We’re already late.”

 

“Fine,” Joohyun mumbled. “But I’m watching you, Moon Byulyi. Very. Closely.”

 

 

As it turned out, Seulgi was in her class. It was a compulsory course for all supernatural beings who possessed sensory abilities they could not control, and as frightened of Joohyun as she was, Byulyi was relieved to know someone in her first Arc course, as they called it—the general term for all unaccredited supernatural training classes. Seulgi was a comforting presence, even if she hadn’t spoken to her since the incident. Maybe with time, they may even be friends.

 

She also hoped that there would be other werewolves in the class, just in case she needed someone to turn to…someone who understood. If she were to find other werewolves, it would most certainly be in an Arc course.

 

Arc courses were designed to help students master or hone each student’s individual abilities. Each square building around the Spire were specifically designed for each class. Each room was different, and magically far more spacious than it seemed from the outside. There were rooms that contained grasslands, mountains, swimming pools, or even an entire football stadium in one instance.

 

This particular classroom was a blinding white laboratory filled with colourful chemicals and futuristic contraptions. Their teacher, like all members of the faculty at ArcIsland, was a dragon. She was small and vaguely sausage-shaped, with golden yellow scales and warm, purple eyes, and a pair of goggles on her forehead to match her white lab coat.

 

When Byulyi and Seulgi stumbled in, all eyes were on them.

 

“I’m Kang Seulgi!” Seulgi said with a smile. The tension in the room immediately dropped—everyone was captivated, and Byulyi was sure that it was only partially because she was a succubus. “I’m a succubus.” The class murmured and nodded, giving her space when she crossed the room to stand at the far edge of the group. Byulyi dimly wondered if she was the only one who didn’t know that you couldn’t touch a succubus.

 

Byulyi hurried after Seulgi, hoping the instructor wouldn’t make her speak. Sure enough, she was far too eager to move on with her lesson to care.

 

As their instructor settled in on a lecture about the categorization of fundamental supernatural archetypes, Byulyi looked around the room. A pack of werewolves stood on the far end of the lab. A few were watching her with an unfriendly glow in their eyes. She averted her eyes, and wondered if she should approach them nonetheless.

 

“Don’t try to talk to them,” Seulgi leaned over with a whisper.

 

“W-what do you mean?”

 

“The wolf pack. They don’t like competition.”

 

“But I’m a werewolf too!” Byulyi whispered back.

 

Seulgi shook her head sadly. “Once a pack is formed, you can’t just randomly join. Since you were late, you’re kind of a rogue wolf now, my friend. You really didn’t read the Database, did you?”

 

“You’re not serious.”

 

Seulgi shrugged. “It’s in the Database.”

 

But Byulyi wasn’t convinced. Because it was the smart thing to do, she puffed up her chest and approached the wolf pack after class. There were five of them, and they were crowded around a table looking at a someone’s phone. When Byulyi approached, a blonde girl with black ears pushed her way forward to face her. 

 

This must be the alpha, Byulyi thought, desperately trying to recall her limited knowledge of wolf behaviour. She tried not to swallow too visibly.

 

“How can I help you, kid?” The blonde girl asked. When she smiled, her canines seemed to flash in warning.

 

“I’m...uh...I’m Byul...yi,” Byulyi managed. She tugged at her collar a bit. Suddenly it was really hot, and there were too many pairs of eyes watching. “Do you...uh...want to be friends?”

 

“Sure!” The other girls looked stunned by the blonde’s response, Byulyi included. A wave of relief peaked, but before it could crash down and wash over Byulyi, the blonde finished her sentence: “but you can’t join our pack. That’s why you’re really here isn’t it?”

 

“W-what? Why?”

 

“Party’s full, kid.”

 

“But I—”

 

The blonde shrugged. “Sorry. I didn’t make the rules.”

 

“But wolves have...pretty big packs…”

 

The group of girls looked at each other. “We’re werewolves. Not wolves,” a girl with white ears said coldly. “You do know the difference, right?”

 

The blonde quirked her brow. “Haven’t you read the Database?”

 

What is up with this Database? Byulyi cried internally. Clearly, she had missed an important memo.

 

“Anyway,” the blonde continued. “You can’t join our pack. But let’s be friends! My name is Hani! The one with the white ears and doesn’t know how to smile is Hyojin. She’s the alpha. You can ask her if you want but—”

 

Hyojin didn’t miss a beat: “No.”

 

“Sorry,” Hani said, though she didn’t look very sorry at all. “You really should read the Database though. You know, at least so you can know a bit more about yourself. I like your colour, by the way. You’re pretty cute.”

 

“T-thanks?”

 

“Yeah, well, good luck.”

 

With her tail between her legs, Byulyi gave up. As she packed up her things, she could not help but foresee herself going through these next few years alone just like she had done in her previous schools.

 

She dragged her feet out the door, dreading her trek back to the dorm room, but was promptly stopped by a hand on her shoulder as soon as she stepped outside. “Hey.”

 

Seulgi. Her warm smile was the last thing she expected to be waiting for her. “How did it go?”

 

Byulyi fingered the strap of her bag uncomfortably. “Ah, well, you were right. I can’t join the pack. I don’t even know why I tried…I mean, what is even the point of a pack?”

 

“I’d ask if you’d read the Database, but I already know the answer to that,” Seulgi snickered.

 

Byulyi groaned and ran a hand through her hair. “The other werewolves told me to check the Database too, but I still don’t know what that is. I’m so tired of all of this. I just want to go back to my room and sleep.” She bit her lip and glanced over at Seulgi, who watched her with a thoughtful expression on her face. “Sorry,” she added sheepishly, “is that depressing? Aish, I shouldn’t take this out on a stranger.”

 

Seulgi shrugged, her smile growing broader as she jostled her shoulder lightly. “Let’s go then!” she said.

 

Byulyi’s brows shot up. “Go? Where? Us?” She spluttered.

 

“To the library, of course! That’s where the Database is. You did get a card yesterday right?”

 

Byulyi nodded vaguely. How was she supposed to admit that she’d been too busy gazing at Yongsun’s name on her card to notice anything else?

 

Seulgi looped a hand around her arm, careful to avoid her skin. “Ah, it doesn’t matter. I’ll take you there. Let’s go, lets go!”

 

 

The library was a spherical gravity-defying structure held up by a single staircase up the front entrance. Its opaque glass panels were covered in moss and barnacles as it stood on the very, very edge of a peninsula just off the shore of the humanities buildings. Hovering over the whirling waters, it was unlike anything Byulyi had ever seen before. She looked up from the bottom of the bright red staircase and at the massive iron doors. Byulyi dimly recalled passing through on Seungwan’s tour, but wasn’t sure how she could’ve missed it—maybe she should be a little less awkward...or girl-crazy...or both.

 

“This is it! Most new students came yesterday. I think they recommend it on the back of your card. I’ve been here since first year, so I can’t quite remember now,” Seulgi said, waving a hand as she ascended the steps two at a time.

 

“Which year are you?” Byulyi asked.

 

“Second! You’ll like it here...ah,” Seulgi spun around and tilted her head to the side, “what was your name again?”

 

“Oh! Uh, it’s Byulyi. Moon Byulyi.” She could not help but grin when she didn’t stutter. Seulgi really was easy to talk to.

 

“My name is Kang Seulgi!”

 

“Ah, I remember.”

 

“Really?” She gasped. “Did I already tell you?”

 

Byulyi’s chuckled. “You told the class earlier.”

 

Seulgi clapped a hand on her forehead. “Ah, I’m so forgetful sometimes. Anyway, let’s go inside. It’s really pretty!”

 

And once again, Seulgi was right. While the outside looked a bit like a dim and mouldy disco ball, the inside was ornate. They stepped into the front foyer. Beyond were three floors of ancient wood. Beneath was a great semi-circular mosaic with a pair of angel wings spread valiantly in front of a broad ray of light. Beneath the wings were the words ‘scientia, pax et ignoscentia’. “Knowledge, peace, and forgiveness,” Seulgi explained, giggling at the fascinated expression of Byulyi’s face. “I bet you didn’t know that’s our school emblem and motto.”

 

Byulyi shook her head.

 

“That motto is a pertinent part of Archangel Island’s history, as well as the struggle of supernatural folk throughout the broader history.” a deep voice said. They glanced over at the librarian standing vigilantly at the front desk before them. The very, very tall red-headed dragon sported a crown of horns, a stern purse of lip, and a dashing, white suit. “Knowledge of self and the world, peace with yourself, and forgiveness of the world we live in: these are the three principles in which we must reconcile with ourselves, with others of supernatural descent, and, most of all, with the greater world. You, youngsters, would do well to keep that in mind.”

 

“Thank you, Mr. M,” Seulgi said with a smile, as Byulyi tried her best not to cower. “We’ll do that.”

 

The librarian nodded.

 

Under the watchful eye of Mr. M, Seulgi tugged Byulyi further into the library by the elbow, where rows upon rows of brown desks and matching green lamps awaited them. A few students were already there, studying, sleeping, or gazing into a floating crystal orb. Beyond the desks were walls of shelves on three different floors, divided into two sections on each floor by an arch at the centre.

 

“You don’t want to go in there,” Seulgi said, pulling her into an empty seat at one of the desks. “It’s like a maze in there. They have some of the oldest books in the world here. Stuff they don’t want the rest of the world know about. Either way, it’s dangerous to go into the second and third floors, so only librarians and faculty are allowed. But the first floor is pretty straightforward, and it has everything you really need anyway.”

 

Byulyi continued to admire the vertical sea of books. “Have you gone up there?”

 

“Nope!” Seulgi said, running her hands over the top of her desk. “I don’t really like to read. I’ve heard students disappearing in there too. No thanks! But this,” an invisible slot in the desk slid open and a crystal ball rose out, “is why we’re here. Isn’t it cool?”

 

Byulyi leaned closer, and saw her warped face inside the floating crystal. “Is that...the Database?”

 

“Yep! Here, just plug this in.” Seulgi handed her a pair of seemingly normal earbuds.

 

Byulyi picked up the jack, examined the shockingly mundane contraption,and raised a brow. “Are these...magical?”

 

Seulgi laughed. “No, of course not! How else do you think we can hear the Database?”

 

“I plug this,” Byulyi said slowly, pointing at the jack for emphasis, “into a crystal ball.”

 

Seulgi pointed to the bottom of the ball. “It’s just under here.” Sure enough, Byulyi felt the bump of a port against her fingertips. Of all the fantasy and magic on ArcIsland, she was amazed that standard twenty-first century technology still had a place. Seulgi reached over and took one of the earbuds from her still hands.

 

“Here we go!” she said. Byulyi could not help but admire Seulgi’s constant enthusiasm and unquestioning acceptance of the oddities on ArcAngel. She, on the other hand, was still stunned useless as she listened to Seulgi’s explanation of how it worked. “...So all you have to do is focus your thoughts on what you want to know more about, and the crystal ball will show it. That’s why a lot of students were here yesterday. It’s all kind of overwhelming, isn’t it? So this makes it really easy to get answers. Anyway, you should try it!”

 

Byulyi blinked. She watched the ball scroll through a whole roster of supernatural creatures as it awaited her thought. “Now?”

 

Seulgi smiled. “Yeah, don’t you want to learn more about your kind?”

 

“Yeah,” Byulyi murmured. At least, intellectually she knew she needed to learn more about herself and why Hani’s pack refused to let her in. She had so many questions about everything and anything, and surely, Seulgi knew this as well.

 

So she really didn’t know what to say when the crystal ball suddenly produced a picture of a medieval vampire.

 

Seulgi watched her with some interest, but said nothing as they listened to a general run-through of facts about vampires. At the end of it, Byulyi tugged out her earpiece. “I didn’t know vampires can walk around under sunshine,” she said, chuckling nervously. “Guess books and movies lied to me.”

 

“I didn’t know you were so interested in vampires,” Seulgi said, much to Byulyi’s mounting dread. “That was very interesting though! I didn’t know they feed only once a month. That seems nice. I’m hungry all the time. Ah, but why did you start thinking about vampires?”

 

Byulyi blushed. It was he very question—with all of its implications—that she wanted to avoid at all costs. She could just brush it off, but Seulgi’s inquisitive eyes were so earnest, and she’d been so nice. “Well,” Byulyi began, drawing out the syllable to build her courage, “my…my roommate is a vampire...I think. I don’t know. She has fangs and can turn into a bat. That’s a vampire, right?”

 

“Oh!” Seulgi lit up. “You’re Yongsun-unnie’s new roommate?”

 

“H-how did you know?”

 

“There’s only one vampire at ArcAngel,” Seulgi said. “Her family has a lot of history with this school, so we don’t get a lot of other vampires. Do you like her?”

 

“L-like her?” Byulyi spluttered. “I don’t even know her!”

 

“Ah,” Seulgi nodded, “okay then.”

 

It struck Byulyi as odd that Seulgi did not press further, but she was thankful that she seemed to genuinely accept her excuse. While she imagined that most people would pass her a skeptical look in an effort to help her admit to truths she didn’t want to admit, Seulgi genuinely did not seem to care.

 

“Thank you, Seulgi,” Byulyi said with a grin. “You’ve been a lifesaver today.”

 

Seulgi pulled her earbud out of her ear and placed it on the desk between them. She leaned back comfortably. “Anytime,” she replied with a broad smile. “I like talking to you! You’re really nice.”

 

“R-really? I was just thinking that about you.”

 

“Well, aside from Joohyun and Seungwan, I don’t really know a lot of other people. A lot of people tend to stay away from me because I’m a succubus. They’re nice and all, but nobody seems to want to be my friend,” Seulgi admitted. “So I’m really happy you’re here.”

 

“Me too. But, um…I’m sorry about earlier too. I never thanked you for saving me from As—Hyperion—and to make it worse, I did that to you.” Byulyi rubbed her neck nervously.

 

Seulgi simply offered her a smile that immediately seemed to relax the tension in her shoulder. “It’s okay, it happens. Besides, it was my fault for not wearing gloves.”

 

“It must be annoying,” Byulyi said thoughtfully. “What do you do if you actually like someone?” She paused to bite her lip. “Ah, is that too personal?”

 

“Hmmm,” Seulgi pressed a finger to her chin. “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t really care about that stuff if I’m honest.”

 

Byulyi furrowed her brows. “What stuff? Love?”

 

“Yeah! Exactly,” Seulgi shrugged, “don’t care about things like that.”

 

“Really!” Byulyi said, immediately leaning forward with interest.

 

Seulgi wrapped her end of the earbuds around a finger as she spoke. The crystal ball now depicted a succubus, but the information crackled through the earbuds unheard. “I like cheering for other couples!” She continued with a wide smile. “Joohyun and Seungwan won’t really listen to me, but I think it’s really cute that they like each other, you know? They’ve liked each other forever—oh! We’re childhood friends—but neither would admit it.” Byulyi nodded along. “I guess it’s just not for me. Sometimes I think that maybe...I just haven’t met anyone yet, but I’m pretty sure this is just the way I am. Ah, I haven’t actually told anyone about this because it’s a little weird for a succubus, but you’re very easy to talk to.”

 

Byulyi smiled. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell. And I feel the same way about you. Will you…um…do you want to be my friend?”

 

“Of course! Aren’t we already friends?”

 

“Ah…I guess you’re right!”  

 

“Tomorrow, when I bring my gloves, we’ll have to celebrate with a friendship hug!”

 

They shared a grin. Byulyi’s heart grew at the thought of not having to spend her days alone. Seulgi’s bright smile and crescent eyes mirrored the kind of joy she hadn’t felt in so long. Friendship—a place to belong—this was it, wasn’t it?

 

Who needed a wolf pack when she had a friend like Seulgi?

 

“Tomorrow.”


	4. Starting Off Easy

Over the next few days, Byulyi began to settle into a routine. Her regular classes were straightforward enough, and other than having dragons for teachers and her daily struggle with Hyperion the gryphon, nothing else was out of the ordinary. As much of a pain Hyperion was every morning, she suspected that he liked her enough to wait for her at the Gryphon Shuttle Station. On Wednesdays, she could easily have walked the fifteen minutes to her business classes, but she was, in truth, beginning to enjoy spending those fifteen minutes wrestling with Hyperion instead. Sometimes, she’d even call him Asbi just to get a rise out of him, and would laugh whenever he kicked back and flapped his wings in annoyance. She’d often stop laughing, however, when he shoves her to the ground with a gust of wind or a good old headbutt.

 

As for her Arc classes, she unfortunately only had the one class will Seulgi. Thanks to her new best friend’s charisma and guidance, she was even able to eventually initiate casual conversation Hani, Hyojin, and the rest of their pack. Hyojin even volunteered to help her with an assignment on the broad implications of werewolf culture.

 

Even more unfortunate was perhaps the fact that she was saddled with ice queen Hyejin for two of her other Arc classes, one of which they took with Wheein. Who knew they’d dedicate an entire course on tail theory?

 

Hyejin avoided speaking to her as much as possible, but she could not help but notice that she always stood beside her whenever Wheein wasn’t around, which inevitably led to many brief partnerships during in-class activities. Byulyi didn’t mind—she liked having a familiar face in her class—but she could not help seeing the parallel between Hyejin and Hyperion.

 

Just as Hyperion liked to shove her to the ground with his fat, speckled head, Hyejin loved pretending she hated Byulyi. As much as she would probably deny it, her edges softened when they were alone. Byulyi certainly didn’t mind Hyejin’s strong presence—she had a lot to learn from the younger girl—so she didn’t say anything, just in case talking about this situation would scare her away. And maybe, like Hyperion, Hyejin secretly enjoyed her company too. Eventually, Byulyi even learned to take comfort in the silence between them. Maybe because they were almost, dare she say, friends?

 

Inexplicably, a friendship with Seulgi immediately drew a number of other people into her life. Seungwan and Joohyun turned out to be less of Seulgi’s childhood friends, and more her two moms—two moms who insisted they could raise a child together platonically despite whatever tension brewed between them. Unlike the cold and serious Joohyun, Seungwan was an unfailing ball of sunshine who always had a cookie to share. She may have been constant worrying and occasionally a nag, but spending time with Seungwan never failed to brighten Byulyi up, and it was obvious to see that Seulgi felt the same.

 

It was as Seulgi once said, “Joohyun-unnie is hard on everyone around her, because she’s the hardest on herself. Seungwan balances her out, even if all she does is give you a brownie and a hug. That’s all you need sometimes.” Then she laughed, and concluded, “I have good parents.”

 

In addition to all of the baked goods and warm hugs from Seungwan, her friendship with Seulgi and Seungwan also invited Wheein—and by extension Hyejin—into their lives.

 

Wheein, shy at first, was very sweet and easy to talk to. She had a lot of passion and enthusiasm for just about everything, and Byulyi could probably listen for hours. If not for Hyejin’s constant intimidation. From the few times they spoke, it seemed that they had a lot in common. Music, dance, art, literature—Wheein was well-versed in all of it. Byulyi even briefly entertained the idea of inviting her out for a cup of coffee and good conversation, but the thought of fighting Hyejin made her stomach turn. As close as she was to becoming Hyejin’s friend, she wasn’t about to put her life on the line.

 

She was thankful enough to be sharing a friend group everyone. It was still an almost impossible notion to think about, but—then again—everything on ArcIsland seemed impossible to begin with. Still, she felt like a different person from the girl who set foot on this island only two weeks ago. Having Seulgi around calmed her anxieties, and with practice, she even learned to function without exploding into a thousand nervous pieces. Now she even had friends. Friends! Byulyi had Seulgi to thank for that.

 

Beyond these budding new relationships, Seulgi’s friendship quickly led to a reluctant acquaintance with Joohyun, which, of course, meant an acquaintance with none other than Kim Yongsun.

 

Oh, where could Byulyi start when it came to Kim Yongsun?

 

The girl was like a ghost, constantly haunting her thoughts, yet never doing more than float in and out of her life, their lives never quite touching. Yongsun stayed out late and woke up late. The only time they would met was through serendipity.

 

Once, Byulyi and Seulgi were out for a walk along the shore, sandwiches in hand, when they ran into Joohyun and Yongsun as they were leaving class. Byulyi tried her best not to gawk while Seulgi talked to Joohyun, but her sneaking glances soon quite became obvious when Yongsun stepped back behind Joohyun’s wings to dodge her eyes.

 

Understandably, the dorm supervisors had a lot of extra duties and responsibilities, but Byulyi couldn’t help but think that Yongsun was avoiding her as well. Byulyi was the first to admit that she was a little strange in her awkward ways, but based on what she heard from the other students, Yongsun simply did not seem the type to ignore someone based on their social ineptitude. Byulyi once saw her laughing with a were-dog who had sniffed her butt after a rather vocal declaration of love. Surely, she wasn’t that bad.

 

Many students admired the regal air about Yongsun. Some even called her the princess of Archangel Island. She was smiling, warm, and approachable—to everyone else, at least. With Byulyi, their interactions were strained at best, filled with polite monosyllabic exchanges, darting eyes, and long, awkward silences.

 

Byulyi sighed. Good thing she was no stranger to admiring from afar.

 

“Unnie, you should really talk to her.” Seulgi sidled up to her as she followed her gaze.

 

On this particular day, Yongsun was standing by a Gryphon Station, grinning broadly as she smoothed back a docile grey gryphon’s feathers. Seulgi glanced over to Byulyi, who stood frozen as she watched the light of the mid-afternoon sun play on her red hair.

 

The books in her arms slipped, and clattered to the floor, bringing her attention back to the present. “Oh, hi Seulgi,” she said with an uneasy smile, and she bent down to clean up her mess of books and papers. She adjusted her grip on her things as she stood, jostling her books around until they felt securely wrapped in her arms. “Didn’t see you there.”

“You wouldn’t see a giant pink bear standing in front of you when Yongsun-unnie is around. It could step on you and you could die, and you wouldn’t even know,” Seulgi said matter-of-factly. She wrapped a gloved hand around Byulyi’s arm. “You should talk to her.”

 

With a heavy sigh, Byulyi peeled Seulgi’s hand off her arm, grumbling away as she held it in her own, a habit they’d developed as an inevitable outcome of Seulgi’s touchy nature. But when she looked up to see a pair of red eyes staring back steadily, she dropped Seulgi’s hand like it was on fire.

 

Seulgi touched the small of her back. “She’s watching, unnie! Go, go, go!”

 

“Aish, stop touching me, Seul! She’ll think we’re—”

 

“What?”

 

“Seulgi!” Her eyes dropped down to Seulgi’s tightly intertwined fingers for emphasis.  

 

“Oh. Oh!” Seulgi leapt back and surrendered her arms in the air. “Sorry! I didn’t realize…”

 

“It’s okay,” Byulyi mumbled, straightening out her sleeve. She looked up in time to watch her throw her hair back and climb aboard the waiting gryphon. “Ah, she’s leaving.”

 

Yongsun sent one last piercing glance in Byulyi’s direction and took off, swiftly and silently. As soon as her silhouette disappeared above the trees, Byulyi grabbed Seulgi by both shoulders and shook her. “Did you see that? That look! What did that mean?” she cried. “What does anything mean?”

 

Seulgi blinked. “I don’t know,” she said, voice shuddering with the force of Byulyi’s hysteria. “I’m probably not the best person to ask.”

 

“Seulgi-i-i-i-i-i,” Byulyi whined, “you had, what? Four love confessions in the past week? Won’t you help your unnie?”

 

“Ahhh, I didn’t ask for tho-o-o-ose! I can’t help yo-o-o-o-ou.” Byulyi stopped shaking, and opt for a soul-wrenching, ear-flattening sigh instead. “But,” Seulgi added carefully, “I might know who can.”

 

 

That was how Byulyi ended up at the very back of the first floor library, one hand deep in her pocket as the other idly ran over the old spines. Seulgi had asked her to meet here, and here she was, even if she didn’t understand why on earth Seulgi was being so secretive—that girl was dangerously easy to trust with her crescent eyes and earnest, if sometimes misguided, intentions. It was late, and most of the students were gone. Surely, there was no need for this kind of tryst.

 

Unless...what if—

 

Byulyi stopped, her heart leapt out of her chest at the thought. No, no. Seulgi wouldn’t throw her into the fire like that. Right?

 

But what if…she was setting her up to meet Kim Yongsun. Right here. Right now.

 

Her fingers clenched around the dusty spine of a leather-bound book. Could she face Yongsun right then and there? Her frantic mind began to panic as her restless hands repeatedly pulled the book in and out of its spot on the ancient shelf.

 

Oh, Kim Yongsun...what could she possibly say?

 

Her breath hitched when a pair of footsteps began making its way toward her. Her nose picked up a vaguely familiar scent, though she could not pinpoint the identity of its source. She relaxed a little knowing it wasn’t Yongsun, whose fragrance she could recognize anywhere. After all, it was hard to forget something that was constantly trying to suck the air out of her lungs whenever it was near.

 

“What the hell are you doing here?”

 

Byulyi’s heart dropped at the familiar voice. She turned slowly, sliding the book back into its place, and came face to face with none other than Ahn Hyejin. A very annoyed Ahn Hyejin. The woman was all faux fur and heavy make-up, and, as usual, looking about two seconds away from tearing out her liver. She took a breath and reassured herself that gumiho have no need for livers—the Database had told her so. Byulyi briefly considered the possibility that it would be much easier to face the subject of her worries head-on, especially with the way Hyejin’s blue tails were twitching in obvious agitation. Then again—her memories of the first day rolled forward—maybe not.

 

Byulyi took another deep breath. She and Hyejin...they were friends now, right? Sometimes they stood next to each other without speaking—surely, that was some kind of friendship. So maybe...this would be alright.

 

“Seulgi told me to meet her here,” Byulyi explained. She gave herself a mental high five for articulating each word.

 

“Yeah, I figured,” Hyejin said, quirking a brow. “I’ve got a pile of shit to do. The hell do you want?”

 

How was it possibly that the typically grumpy Hyejin—unless she was with Wheein—could be even grumpier? 

 

“Uh, well, I don’t know why Seulgi d-dragged you out here,” she mumbled. “I...I asked her, um, for help. With...with...with…”

 

Hyejin rolled her eyes. “Just spit it out.”

 

“Girls.”

 

“What? I could’ve sworn you just said girls.”

 

Byulyi’s face was beet red. “I-I did. I need help with girls. I didn’t know who to turn to.”

 

“Your best friend is a succubus,” Hyejin deadpanned. “Why are you asking me?”

 

Byulyi bit her lip. “Seulgi...doesn’t know,” she said carefully. “And I guess it’s because you’re...um, with Wheein? So maybe she thought…”

 

Hyejin nodded sagely. “Wheein is quite the catch,” she said, relaxing visibly as she stroked her chin. “I suppose that does make me quite successful, yes.” And just like that, even her nine tails seemed calmer as they flickered—almost playfully. Wheein truly had a way of turning Hyejin into a whole new person. “So you want to know how to catch a girl as perfect as Wheein? Sorry, to tell you, but—”

 

“Ah, no!”

 

Hyejin’s eyes narrowed and suddenly began to glow blue. “You’re in love with Wheein,” she said, whipping out an accusing finger.

 

“No! Definitely not!” She drew an X with her arms, and shook her head in vigorous refusal, just in case Hyejin was still unsure. She did not want to fight.

 

The blue in her eyes disappeared as suddenly as it came, but Hyejin looked no less offended as she pressed a carefully manicured hand to her chest with a gasp. “Excuse me, what is wrong with you?” she demanded. “What do you find so wrong about my perfect, adorable, angel?”

 

There was no winning with this girl, Byulyi decided with no small amount of exasperation.

 

“Look, it has nothing to do with Wheein, I’m just...I just want to know how to talk...to girls.”

 

Hyejin frowned. “The fuck am I?”

 

Byulyi flinched. “Sorry, that’s not what I meant. I mean I... want to talk to...one...specific…. girl.” Her ears began to burn. “I think she’s avoiding me. I...I just want to be friends. I don’t know. It’s just been...bothering me a lot,” she admitted, collapsing down to clutch her knees.

 

“Oh...oh! Oh.” Hyejin clapped her hands together as an epiphany hit her. “You’re into that chick! The vampire. What’s her name? Oh, oh! Kim Yongsun!” Much to Byulyi’s surprise and annoyance, she burst into laughter. “Of course! Oh man, it makes perfect sense. Honestly, I don’t know how I didn’t catch that. I bet they can see your boner for that girl from space!”

 

Byulyi flushes a fierce shade of red. “Wha—”

 

Hyejin held up a hand. “I’ll help,” she said, “You’re okay, Moon Byulyi.” She grinned a mischievously boyish smile that made her look far younger than she often tried to appear. Hyejin was a cute kid, Byulyi decided, once it was clear that she was not a threat.

 

“So what do you want to know?” Hyejin asked. “Here, have some Pepero. I didn’t know how long this would take so I brought some snacks.”

 

Byulyi took a cookie from the box with a grateful smile, and pondered the question. “I don’t know,” she confessed. “I just...don’t know how to talk to her.”

 

Hyejin smirked as she settled down on the floor beside Byulyi. “Not to be rude, but you don’t seem particularly good at talking. Period.”

 

Byulyi scoffed. “Can’t argue with that. How did...how did you start talking to Wheein? Did you get nervous?”

 

“Of course, have you seen how cute she is? We met in middle school—a lot of people liked her. I had a lot of competition.”

 

Byulyi nodded. It wasn’t hard to believe. “How did you get her to like you back then?”

 

“I didn’t get her to do anything,” Hyejin said, puffing her chest with pride. “I kind of just stood on my desk one day and declared my love. You should’ve seen the look on everyone’s faces. Wheeinie didn’t say anything, and just kind of blushed. She was as shocked as everyone else—it was so cute. After school, she visited me in detention and kissed me on the cheek.”

 

“Amazing,” Byulyi breathed. “I don’t think I can do that though.”

 

“Please,” Hyejin said, waving a hand. “You’d fall right off the desk before you get a single word in, and everyone will just be confused. Tip number one: if you want the girl, you gotta make yourself clear.”

 

“Hyejin-ah, I don’t even think she wants to be my friend at this point…”

 

Hyejin ignored her. “Tip number 2,” she said, a few decibels too loudly, “you will always be inferior to the woman of your dreams, so don’t think about it.”

 

“Wha—Hyejin, this isn’t—”

 

“Tip 2.5, don’t give me that ‘ooh, I just want to be her friend because I’m a poor awkward puppy’ bullshit. I hate that kind of boring drama.” Byulyi couldn’t help but wince at Hyejin’s impersonation. “Anyone with eyes can see what you really want with our Archangel princess.” Hyejin rolled her eyes. “So shut the fuck up and just admit you want to bang her.”

 

“Oh my god,” Byulyi groaned, burying her face in her hands. But try as she might—blunt as Hyejin was—she could not deny the way Yongsun made her feel.

 

“Seriously though, just talk to her.”

 

“What about,” Byulyi hesitated, but the almost gentle expectancy in Hyejin’s eyes told her she wouldn’t get beaten up for this question—so she hoped. “Um, what about other girls?”

 

“Other girls?”

 

“How did you talk to other girls?”

 

She expected some degree of offence, but Hyejin simply grinned a little wider. “Wheein is my one and only forever and ever. Sure, we have our issues, but I’ve never—will never—love somebody else the same way. And when you have someone like Wheein, the rest of the world are just walking, talking human-shaped blobs. So it’s easy!”

 

Byulyi leaned her head back and looked up into the darkness of their dimming alcove. Suddenly, a candlelight flickered to life on the other side of their shelf, mixing a comforting orange glow with the ice blue hue of Hyejin’s tails, which were folded neatly into her lap. Byulyi crossed her legs and adjusted her seat on the downy carpet.

 

“Maybe I should get used to talking to other people first,” Byulyi said, lolling her head to the side to meet Hyejin’s eyes.

 

Hyejin hummed in response.

 

“Then again,” Byulyi continued, drawing out her syllables with no small degree of shame. “I’m pretty sure she thinks Seulgi and I are dating.”

 

Hyejin rolled her eyes. “Of course she does. Look, just talk to her. If you could say two sentences to her without stuttering or falling down or whatever the hell you do, then the rest of it will be pretty easy.”

 

“I don’t know, I—”

 

“That will be your homework for the day,” Hyejin announces. She leapt up and dusted off her clothes. “Right now, that’s all I can really tell you. Start off easy.”

 

“Yeah. Easy.”

 

“Yep. Easy. Anyway, I have to get back to Wheein. She and Seungwan are doing some baking together,” she finished hesitantly. “Want the rest of my Pepero?”

 

Byulyi smiled, and accepted the gift like an offering. “Thank you. For everything today.”

 

“No problem. You’re...not as bad as I thought,” Hyejin said with a smirk.

 

She turned to go, but there was something else Byulyi wanted to say—something that required the kind of courage Hyejin offered her. She closed her eyes and took a breath and finally: “Wait!” She called.

 

Hyejin cocked a brow. “Yeah?”

 

“Um...I...uh…”

 

“You better not confess to me, or I’ll punch you.”

 

“No!”

 

“Just say it then.”

 

“I...don’t want to overstep my boundaries but…” Byulyi swallowed nervously. “I think you should know that...Wheeinssi really loves you.”

 

Hyejin smiled sadly. “I know. It’s...complicated. Maybe I’ll even tell you about it someday.”

 

 

Her conversation with Hyejin left her reeling. Byulyi thought deeply about her feelings, and the courage it took to be better than the person she was now. It was overwhelming, and the next day, she found herself sleep walking through her classes.

 

She needed an opportunity, she thought. Just talk to her, she told herself. Say hi. Ask her how her day went. Start easy. She dreamt up a thousand scenarios: running into her after class, staying up late for her, ask someone to deliver a note, write a letter. Anything to start an exchange of something more than awkward silence.

 

Start easy.

 

In her haze, she could barely hear the world around her. During marketing, Hani had thrown a paper ball at the back of her head to wake her up, only to have it bounce off into the lap of a confused satyr.

 

During her Arc class with Hyejin and Wheein, Hyejin had picked Wheein up by the armpits in her tanuki form, and waved her up and down in front of Byulyi’s face. Wheein complained about being treated like a teddy bear, but even though she was loud enough to garner a quiet chorus of snickers from their surrounding classmates, Byulyi was unfazed.

 

During break, she’d absentmindedly walked right into Seulgi, who was standing with her arms extended, separating an angry Seungwan and an angrier Joohyun. To anyone else with half a conscious brain, the tension was thick. Seungwan and Joohyun took turns yelling, but she—lost in the labyrinth of her own world—couldn’t hear a thing. She mumbled her apology to Seulgi and walked away.

 

Naturally, she had all but forgotten the special seminar she was supposed to attend until she bumped into Wheein on her way back to her dorm.

 

“Byulyi-unnie! Where are you going? Aren’t you going to the seminar with me?” Byulyi looked around for Hyejin. Though she was far more relaxed around her now, it would take some time before she could break the habit of caution. “Hyejin is taking a nap. She knows I’m with you, so it’s okay. You are coming right?”

 

“What was it called again?”

 

“Transformation and the Stabilization of Self and Selves or something like that,” Wheein said, transforming into a tanuki. She leapt up onto Byulyi’s shoulder, and up to the top of her head.

 

“Ack! You’re really heavy! And watch the claws—ah—ow!”

 

“You complain too much, unnie.” She patted her head with her paw. “Let’s go!”

 

The seminar took place at the top of the Spire, in one of three modular rooms carved inside the bone-coloured curves of the structure. At the front was a raised platform of pure white, where a splintered old podium made its home.

 

Wheein ushered Byulyi into a seat beside the already seated Seungwan and Joohyun. As she approached, Seungwan shirked her hand back from between her and Joohyun and waved a little too enthusiastically. Byulyi blinked, but decided not to comment, especially when she caught Joohyun’s glare in her peripheral.

 

Somehow, getting along with Joohyun was nothing like taming a gryphon or a gumiho.

 

They sat in a crowd of stark, red folding chairs, beneath a flock of doves roosting in the beams high above. The doves each wore a little incandescent bulb around their necks, casting little, unsteady streaks of light across the room whenever they flew.

 

Byulyi was still marvelling at the beautiful room when the host introduced the speakers. She watched a dove pick at its lightbulb with its beak, and another shake its feathers. The first speaker was a demi-dragon, a serious man with the horns and whiskers of a Chinese dragon. His Mandarin was way too fast for his translator to keep up, and she quickly lost interest.

 

Throughout most of the talks, Wheein was enraptured; Byulyi was mostly bored.

 

Until a familiar scent hit her nostrils. She shot forward in her seat.

 

“Wow, unnie,” Wheein whispered. “Hyejin wasn’t kidding about how thirsty you are.”

 

But Byulyi didn’t hear her as she watched Kim Yongsun, campus princess, ascend the steps and cross the stage. Her heart rattled against her chest, blood rushed in her ears. She saw nothing but her red lips forming soundless syllables, heard nothing but the frantic beating of her own heart. At some point, the red-haired beauty turned herself into a bat to demonstrate something, and flew straight into one of surrounding structures. The crowd gasped, but she quickly recovered and perched on the podium, where she nudged her little face into a pair of glasses.

 

She transformed back, the glasses still on her face, and said something about something else.

 

Byulyi tried to listen, tried to focus, but her mind was too loud. She practically trembled in her seat as she ran the same three words over and over and over: this is it.

 

She glanced at Wheein, who was nodding along to whatever Yongsun was saying, and thought of Hyejin. She thought of her her bold declaration of love.

 

Yongsun began to take questions.

 

This was her chance.

 

A few hands shot up.

 

Someone spoke.

 

Yongsun answered.

 

Someone else spoke.

 

Yongsun answered.

 

Repeat.

 

Repeat.  

 

This was it.

 

Byulyi’s hand was up before she could second-guess herself.

 

Yongsun met her gaze straight on, surprise evidently laced on her pretty features.

 

This was it.

 

“Yes, the werewolf in the back?” Yongsun said.

 

Byulyi scrambled to her feet.

 

“What is she doing?” She heard Joohyun whisper. No one replied.

 

A kappa ran by and stuffed a microphone into Byulyi’s sweaty hands.

 

She took a deep breath, shut out the two hundred pairs of eyes on her. It was just her—she breathed again—just her and Yongsun.

 

Don’t stutter. Don’t stutter. Slowly, now.

 

“Kim Yongsun!” She shouted into the microphone. “Will you go out with me?”

 

So much for starting off easy.


	5. The Great Expectations of an Earnest Fool

As soon as the words left her lips she was struck with a bolt of raw fear. She adjusted the microphone in her hand, and tried not to notice how loud the silence was and how many people were gaping at her with open mouths.

 

She tried not to notice that she was in the middle of the row, with no place to run. It was so incredibly awkward that even the doves seemed to gather a little closer, casting their pale yellow lights on her accusingly. She did not think this through.

 

On stage, Yongsun was as pale as a sheet.

 

Everyone waited.

 

“Um, I-I mean,” Byulyi wracked her brain for something, anything—to play it off as a joke, to be cool, to not look so obviously like she was about to shit her pants—but she couldn’t remember a word from her talk. The feedback from the microphone screeched, buying her an extra second as everyone cringed at the high pitched noise. She blurted the first question that came to mind: “What’s your favourite colour?”

 

She wanted to bury herself in a hole and never come out. Except she was two thousand feet up in the air, surrounded by bewildered and snickering people.

 

Without another word, she slinked back into her seat. The host hurriedly attempted to diffuse the situation by ushering Yongsun off the stage and introducing their last speaker, a bewildered antelope who had been awkwardly fidgeting at the edge of the stage for the last few minutes.

 

She sulked through the rest of the talks, ignoring Wheein’s concerned looks and overly cautious questions, and bolted out of the room as fast as she could as soon as it was socially acceptable to do so.

 

If she turned back then, she may have noticed Yongsun start after her, only to be intercepted by Joohyun with a stern word of warning.

 

When she got back to her room, she slid under the covers with her frantic heart clawing at her chest. She waited—caught between fear and anticipation—for Yongsun to return. What would she say? What would she do once she inevitably rejected her?

 

Exhausted by her overworked mind, she fell asleep before Yongsun had returned. Next morning, she looked across the room to find her bed untouched—Yongsun hadn’t returned at all.

 

Her heart sank to her stomach.

 

Byulyi skipped all her classes the next day, and the day after that. Seulgi, Hyejin, and Wheein took turns trying to cheer her up, but no amount of comfort, encouragement, or—on Hyejin’s part—pure yelling could console her. Hyejin even apologized for accidentally planting the idea in her head. “I’m proud of you, unnie. You did something no one—not even yourself—thought it was possible.” And though the pain of Yongsun’s continuing silence lingered, Hyejin was right. Rejected or not, it was something to be proud of.

 

She resolved to get over Yongsun, who still did not return. And it would be simple and easy, perhaps, if things continued on his way. Or even if Yongsun came back and flat out rejected her clearly. But after two and a half days of unproductive waiting and less-than-unproductive pining, Byulyi decided to take matters into her own hands. And—alright—maybe she did kind of just wanted Hyejin to shut up about this whole situation.

 

Late in the afternoon on the third day, she braved the trepidatious ten-minute walk to Joohyun’s dorm, hoping the fierce dorm supervisor would not be around during this visit. She wasn’t even completely certain Yongsun would be here, but it seemed like a good place to start. Seungwan would know. Maybe she’d luck out and run into Seungwan.

 

She entered the foyer—it was identical to her own dorm, and no less massive. The hall of rooms seemed to extend forever in both directions. A grand staircase led upstairs, to no doubt another set of endless hallways. She caught the attention of a passing nekomata to ask for directions to Joohyun’s room, but she simply shook her head. Fortunately, her friend—a girl with a flowing green mane and antlers—approached them just in time. 

 

“Second floor, end of the hall, I think,” she said, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. When the nekomata gave her a quizzical look, she quickly added, “I went to visit a friend down there and I’ve seen her, alright? She’s kind of...hard to miss.”

 

“Right. There’s a shortcut just upstairs if you go into the first room,” the nekomata added. “It’s actually a horizontal elevator for kids who don’t want to walk. There are actually a ton of shortcuts if you know where to look.”

 

“Not everyone is small enough to fit through them like you are,” the green-haired girl said with an exaggerated roll of her eyes.

 

“Well, not everyone can majestically gallop down the hall like you,” her friend retorted with a huff.

 

Byulyi quickly thanked them before anything escalated, and hopped up the steps two at a time. Just like the nekomata had said, the first door was a cherry-panelled door like all the others, but when she pushed it open, she stepped into an elevator, brushed metal with a bright white stripe of white light between each mirror. Her finger hovered over the wall of buttons, each labelled with a number between -250 to 250.

 

“What the hell,” she muttered. She tried to recall the green-haired girl’s directions, but she didn’t say which end of the hall.

 

250 it was!

 

The button glowed white, and—before she could catch herself as the elevator lurched sideways—she crashed into the far wall with a grunt. By the time the door rumbled open, she was still sprawled on the floor, hand to her erratic heart. Fortunately, no one was outside to witness her slink out of the elevator, clutching her throbbing shoulder.

 

She stumbled across the green-carpeted hall to a door marked with a gold plaque: “Bae Joohyun & Son Seungwan”. Thank god she didn’t have to brave another elevator ride.

 

Curiously, the door was slightly ajar.

 

Byulyi gave the door a timid knock. No response. Her ear twitched when it picked up a muffled noise.

 

“It’s alright,” someone whispered. Joohyun? Well, of course—she shook her head—Joohyun lived here after all. But there was something different about her voice. Something thick...kind of like—

 

Byulyi’s mind flashed to the first night, Joohyun stumbling in with Yongsun—their whispered voices, tinged with a kind of heat Byulyi didn’t want to remember. The kind of heat she didn’t ever want to hear from Joohyun ever again.

 

But here she was.

 

Was Yongsun in there?

 

She didn’t want to know.

 

Oh god, but she had to know.

 

Soundlessly, she slipped further into the room, flattening her ears so she wouldn’t have to hear the muffled and occasionally wet noises coming from inside the room—thank god she paid attention in class the day they learned to control their non-human traits. She flattened herself against the wall, and shuffled closer.

 

She should go, a part of her mind screamed. Oh, but she had to know. Should she jump in and confront them? No, no, no. She just wanted a peek. It was harmless, she told herself, she just needed to satisfy her curiosity. This could be her chance at closure. She would give up after this. She had to.

 

She poked around the corner.

 

Her eyes widened.

 

There she was: Bae Joohyun, hair dishevelled, shirt unbuttoned, straddling the lap of another woman on her bed, her wings spread straight out behind her as her back arched—a messy brown head latched the the white expanse of her neck. Joohyun’s hand rose up to cradle the other woman’s cheeks, and pulled her into a fiery kiss.

 

The other girl whimpered. “Unnie...I—”

 

“Wan-ah, don’t,” Joohyun mumbled. “Don’t make this complicated.”

 

The hands beneath Joohyun’s shirt stilled. It was only a single moment of hesitation, but it was enough to mar Joohyun’s pretty features with a frown. She pushed the brunette down, her antlers scraping the headboard slightly as Joohyun kissed her with renewed passion. The brunette responded eagerly—

 

Wait. Antlers? Byulyi leaned closer, and squinted at girl writhing beneath Joohyun—suddenly so filled with curiosity that she’d all but forgotten that she was, in fact, intruding on a very private and intimate moment.

 

Antlers? She wasn’t crazy—those antlers looked very familiar.

 

And Wan. Joohyun called her Wan. Which means…

 

Oh.

 

Oh.

 

Byulyi dove toward the door. So dizzy with this new information that she’d forgotten where the elevator was. Thankfully, she didn’t notice she had forgotten as she stumbled through the hall, her mind racing with questions.

 

Seungwan said they weren’t together. Were they? Could she tell anyone? Should she? Could she keep it a secret? Oh god, how would she ever be able to face her friend after seeing her in such an intimate moment? Cute, innocent Seungwan—ah, it was too much!

 

Wait, was Joohyun cheating on Seungwan? Or was she cheating on Yongsun?

 

Suddenly, a blur of red charged into her chest with such an impact that—possessed by instinct—she reacted up and gripped the other person by the upper arms to maintain her balance, but in the midst of the confusion, her feet tripped forward, tangling with the other person’s, and sent her sprawling forward.

 

“Ow.”

 

Byulyi’s ears perked at the familiar voice.

 

The scent hit her all at once and she lets out a low groan before she could process it all. The body beneath her stiffened, hitched breath in her ear.

 

The next thing Byulyi knew, she was sent flying into a perfect arc through the air, before crashing into the shelf behind her with a grunt. She hit the blue carpet arms-first, and swore softly as the shooting pain in her elbow jolted her awake. The scent, however, was close enough still to cloud her senses like a heavy mist. It drew her attention away from the pain—she didn’t dare look up.

 

She wasn’t ready to face Kim Yongsun—not while she continued to creep her out so successfully at each meeting. Keeping her eyes down on the blue carpet, she tried to refocus her senses—dull the fragrance of Yongsun’s scent. At least enough for her to interact with her roommate without practically moaning in her ear. What the hell is wrong with you? She chided herself.

 

Wait a second.

 

Blue carpet.

 

Blue carpet?

 

The carpeting in Joohyun’s building was green. She was almost certain it was green, because the carpet in her own building was also green, and whenever she saw it she was often reminded of Hyejin saying that it looks like the colour of leprechaun poop. Whatever that meant.

 

And the bookshelf. There were definitely no bookshelves in the hall.

 

“Oh no.”

 

Byulyi’s head snapped up to see Yongsun staring up at the endlessly towering bookshelves all around them. Slowly, Byulyi rose to her feet, and followed Yongsun’s gaze.

 

“W-where are we?” Byulyi asked, cringing slightly at the way her voice squeaked.

 

“Third floor library,” Yongsun muttered. She searched the shelf closest to her for some kind of opening, but it was quickly apparent that they were boxed in.

 

“Are we...trapped?”

 

Without looking at Byulyi as she continued her useless search, Yongsun nodded. “The shelves move every two to four hours, and sometimes they create gaps like this one,” she explained warily.

 

There was something then—maybe it was the casual gesture of tucking her hair behind her ear; maybe it was the dim lighting or the bright red eyes shooting straight into her soul—that made Byulyi hyper-aware of how close Yongsun was in their enclosure. Suddenly, she couldn’t remember how she usually stood, or which expressions she usually wore. Every muscle seemed to have forgotten how to function without conscious decision-making.

 

Why does she have to smell so good?

 

Oh god, if she screwed up again there was nowhere to go.

 

Byulyi wringed her hands. “Um, h-how did we...get here?” She asked.

 

Yongsun gripped the shelf, and sighed deeply. “I can...in theory...teleport,” she said to the dusty spines in front of her. “In theory. Unfortunately, I can’t really...control it.” She flipped her palms over and studied them. “It doesn’t happen often—only twice so far; three times including this one—and I’m not sure what the causes it is—maybe panic or fear? Last time, I ended up inside a stable, and before that I woke up at the top of the Spire, and Joohyun had to come and rescue me. Oh god, I’m rambling now, aren’t I?” She took a breath. “What if we’re stuck here?”

 

“I-it’ll be okay,” Byulyi said. She reached out a hand to comfort her, but—no, she better not—closed her fingers into a fist and held it by her side. “It’s only two hours, right?”

 

Yongsun turned around and offered a weak smile. “Yeah. Hopefully.”

 

They sat on opposite sides of the small room, legs huddled to their chests. Byulyi kept her eyes on the blue carpet as she tried to find the words to say. There were so many things she wanted to say to her, but where could she begin? She was so sure when she set out to find her—less than an hour ago—and now she was here. Trapped here with nowhere else to go. And she had absolutely nothing to say.

 

She chanced a glance at Yongsun, and was surprised to find her watching her, only to look away as soon as their eyes met. Byulyi felt a sharp jab to her chest—how did it end up like this? How did she screw up so horribly that this girl couldn’t even look her in the eye? No, she had to make things right. Surely, it couldn’t get more awkward than this if she were to apologize?

 

“Um”—her voice strained against the silence before her mind could stop her—“I’m...sorry,” Byulyi began. Her ears flattened against her head as she ducked her chin lower into her knees.

 

Yongsun picked at the carpet. “For what?”

 

“F-for what?” Byulyi repeated. She hadn’t thought that far. “Everything I guess? I...really hoped that we could be friends, but I’m...I’m so...ngh. I’m just sorry.”

 

“You”—Yongsun paused—“surprise me.”

 

Byuly chuckled nervously. “I surprise myself sometimes. I’m...really sorry about the seminar incident. I really...don’t know what came over me.”

 

“It’s okay,” Yongsun said with a small smile. “I guess I should answer your question. I wasn’t sure how, so I…” she cleared her throat, “I guess I’m sorry too.”

 

Byulyi’s flustered hands flew up. “Ah, no—you don’t—“

 

“My favourite colour is red.”

 

“Oh. That’s...very...um, cool?”

 

Yongsun grinned. “Yeah, I think so too.”

 

Byulyi tried to return the smile, but it must’ve been closer to a grimace as she wondered if she could brave that leap of faith once more. Could she ask? Was it the right time? Will there ever be the right time? Unless she didn’t want her to ask, so she made a joke. That was a joke, right?

 

Oh god, if she was rejected, she’d have nowhere to go.

 

Perhaps she should change the topic. She opened her mouth.

 

But Yongsun beat her to it. “As for your other question—” Byulyi froze, her hair on end—she was suddenly very cold. “I’m...very flattered.”

 

Oh no.

 

Yongsun hugged her knees closer, and dropped her eyes. “I guess I don’t really know. I think you’re”—she blushed—“very cute, but I...we don’t really know each other. And maybe that’s partly my fault too. So maybe...friends first?”

 

Very cute. Byulyi’s mind short-circuited—those two words blaring like alarms in her ear. Very cute. Yongsun thought she was very cute. Not just cute—very cute.

 

“Yeah,” she heard herself reply, “Friends.” Friends with Yongsun. Who thought she was very cute.

 

“Friends.”

 

Regardless of how Byulyi felt on the inside, She maintained calm enough of a facade to uphold a proper conversation with the older girl. Once she got past the shock of her own attraction—and Yongsun’s little admission—she was surprisingly easy to talk to.

 

And maybe it was kind of nice to just get to know each other without being so conscious of everything. Sure, it took all of Byulyi’s energy to focus on her words rather than her scent, but she certainly wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

 

Kim Yongsun was both beautiful and fascinating and complex. Her passions and hobbies spanned far and wide, and—much like Wheein—could talk endlessly about them. Byulyi could listen forever, but Yongsun was a good listener too, nodding and pressing and asking questions whenever she could. Even when Byulyi’s words came out in clumps, she’d smile patiently and urge her on. From the enthusiastic movement of her hands, and the lit up grin, and the embarrassed half-smile—Yongsun was an open book of emotion, and it was easy to see why most of the school found her to be so comforting. It was easy to see why everyone she encountered was half in love with her. They must’ve conversed for no more than two hours, but it felt as natural as if they’d known each other a lifetime.

 

Little did Byulyi know, Yongsun found her equally easy to talk to, and—in such a rare occasion of intimacy and in spite of everything that happened—was able to confess something that few people knew: all of these expectations, all of the adoration, all of the pressure of her place on the pedestal—it terrified her. Especially after succeeding her sister as the only vampire on ArcIsland.

 

The confession tinged Byulyi with guilt, knowing full well how she had only perpetuated this fear with her intense attraction. But there was something else in the way Yongsun attracted her—it was almost something something else, something primal. Yongsun was still talking—she shelved the idea for another day as she continued to listen.

 

She was the youngest of two, and had spent a lifetime in her sister’s shadow. “My sister is amazing,” she said with a sigh. “She was always at the top of her class, and everyone adored her and...I can’t even use my powers properly. I still can’t believe I trapped us here.” Byulyi, who had inched over little by little over the course of their conversation, was close enough to touch her.

 

She hesitated.

 

“It’s okay,” Byulyi said, gripping the cuff of her own jeans. “I...might be selfish in saying this, but I am grateful to be trapped here. W-with you. Since I get to talk to you...and stuff. That’s enough for me...I’m...I’m sorry if I...I...put you on that pedestal.” With a fierce blush, she changed the topic.

 

It delighted her to no end to hear the lilting melody of Yongsun’s laughter as she recounted stories from her own childhood, being the unglamorous oldest of three. “I didn’t always get along with my sisters,” Byul said, leaning a cheek on her knees as she gave Yongsun a small smile. “In a lot of ways, I guess I thought I had to be...more? More like your sister maybe? I’m...awkward. B-but I guess you knew that.”

 

Yongsun chuckled. “Everyone wants to be more, don’t they? I think even my sister does sometimes. Ever since she graduated, she kind of just started...floating. Like she doesn’t really know how to live up to those standards anymore. It makes me wonder what will happen to me? What if I’m still in school because I’m afraid I can’t live up to anything in the real world?”

 

“You’ll be alright,” Byulyi said without hesitation. She grinned—a kind of uninhibited, thoughtlessly charming grin only her closest friends have seen. “Not being able to transform into a bat or teleport doesn’t change the fact that you already have three degrees, and you’re working on a PhD and you’re coming up with all of these amazing ideas for renewable energy while writing your dissertation and a novel.” She took a breath. “You’re amazing, Yongsun-unnie. There’s nothing in the real world that can take that away from you.”

 

In Byulyi’s excitement, she had thrown her arms open, and it was only now that she had finished her speech with a victorious grin did she realize how close they were. And how big Yongsun’s eyes were in the dim lighting. And how amazingly delicious she smelled.

 

Byulyi leaned a little closer. Yongsun, stricken with something undefinable in her gaze, didn’t move.

 

Byulyi swallowed, and flickered her eyes in permission. She heard the hitch of a breath. A pause. A slight tilt of the head—an invitation.

 

Byulyi pressed on with lips parted.

 

It all happened so quick, though time seemed to have slowed and stretched. Surely, she was dreaming—where else would she have such courage? But Yongsun’s lips were pillowy sweet, and the soft hand on her cheek—surely, even her most overactive state of imagination could not have conjured up the bubbling in the pit of her stomach and the warmth of Yongsun’s touch.

 

She was kissing the girl of her dreams. And the girl, so distant only two hours ago, was kissing her back. If it were a dream—and she half hoped it was when her mind began to drift to the consequences of her actions—she never wanted it to end.

 

It was Yongsun who broke the kiss. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her eyes locked onto Byulyi’s. She must’ve been considering something, and Byulyi had just enough oxygen in her brain to fear the rejection. Byulyi began to pull back with a sheepish smile. She quickly considered an exit plan. Maybe she could laugh it off, or pretend it didn’t happen. Pretend she doesn’t see the glazed look Yongsun wore. Pretend she didn’t want to kiss her again.

 

But it was also Yongsun who lunged for the second kiss, and it pushed Byulyi back with such a ferocity that the older girl was practically on top of her, straddling her legs. Her back dug uncomfortably into the shelf behind her. She raised her hands to Yongsun’s back—all she could hear, feel, and see, was the intoxicating scent of the other girl, somehow even more powerful in the heat of sudden passion. All rational thought escaped when she felt Yongsun’s hand sliding its way down to the hem of her shirt.

 

Even her tongue seemed to have a mind of its own.

 

It escalated quickly—or perhaps it would have if it wasn’t for very poorly timed moment of divine intervention. Byulyi’s shirt was halfway up her torso when the ground suddenly shook with the force of a small earthquake. The creak of wood scraping against each other deafened into white noise. The shelf behind them groaned, sending Byulyi falling back against the blue carpet and Yongsun tumbling onto her side. After half a moment of shock, Yongsun scrambled to her feet.

 

“The hall!” she cried, just loud enough for Byulyi to hear.

 

Drunk as she was on the taste of Yongsun’s lips, Byulyi somehow wavered up into a standing position, just in time to see her slip between two rapidly closing bookshelves. Adrenaline kicked in, and she ran after her, inching her body to the side just in time to make the same pass through the shelves. She followed after Yongsun on this obstacle course, jumping over shelves that were spontaneously rising from the ground, and ducking under shelves that seemed to fall from the sky.

 

By the time they made it into the quiet hall, safe and sound under the protection of the marble arches and the stern, philosophizing busts on display, Byulyi was just about ready to collapse. She cast an idle glance over the edge of the bannister, where students milled about quietly on the first floor of the library. She slunk back, closer to a bust of Socrates beside Yongsun. Just in case Mr. M, the librarian, happened to be looking. 

 

Yongsun was in no better shape, having collapsed to her knees on the blue carpet, gasping for breath.

 

One glance at her swollen lips reminded Byulyi of what had just happened. She smiled, hoping whatever they had was still there after the adrenaline rush. “That was close,” Byulyi said nervously.

 

Yongsun said nothing.

 

Instead, the hardened look in her eyes told Byulyi exactly what she was afraid of hearing.


	6. Meanwhile: Bae Joohyun & Son Seungwan

Son Seungwan grew up in a small town, haunted by the mysticism of its past. Her family lived just off the edge of the main street, a paved road with three shops, a post office, and a school lined the streets. Its inhabitants were torn by the spirituality of the past and the philosophies of the future, but most generally accepted the oddities around them.

 

Seungwan received her antlers at a young age, and though her parents were just regular, blue-collar humans, they were never short on love and support. She never felt the need to hide who she was, and her bubbly personality never failed to draw in the curiosity.

 

The Son family lived in a modest house beside the Kang family. Mr. Son and Mr. Kang worked together in a government office in the next town. Mrs. Son and Mrs. Kang taught at the local school. All the while, little Son Seungwan and little Kang Seulgi shared everything. Seulgi didn’t mind that Seungwan had antlers, and they were best friends long before Seulgi discovered her own superhuman qualities.

 

Seulgi was just as bubbly and friendly as Seungwan, and all throughout grade school, they got along famously well. Though they were surrounded by love and friendship, they were each other’s rock. They shared every joy, every sorrow, every secret, insecurity, down to the very last triviality. Truly, there was nothing they did not share.

 

Just them and the world—they thought it would be that way forever. After all, forever didn’t seem like such a long time when they were young.

 

But everything changed in their last year of grade school when Bae Joohyun moved to town.

 

According to the older kids in the conjoined middle school, Joohyun was a classical beauty—the kind who could capture an entire room with a single smile. It was said that the moment she stood up at the chalkboard—standing innocently beside the teacher as she was introduced—all one could hear in the room was the quiet dropping of jaws. It was no surprise then that everyone tripped over themselves to be her friend. She had a small pair of wings back then, like a cherub, an angel among the unworthy.

 

Seungwan and Seulgi stayed back in their own world, though the rumours secretly fascinated them in different ways. On the day that Joohyun came into town, the mood was quiet and contemplative when they held hands on the walk home, as if sensing the change to come. A change beyond anything else their young minds could imagine.

 

The first time Seungwan talked to Joohyun was in mid-Autumn. She was in the general store, killing time while Seulgi was at basketball practice, and was wrist deep in a sack of beans when a beautiful stranger caught her eye.

 

“What are you doing?” the stranger whispered.

 

Seungwan blushed to the tip of her ears, as she slowly, shamefully, withdrew her hand. But when she looked up, the stranger simply tilted her head. Her dark eyes were inquisitive as she patiently waited for Seungwan’s reply.

 

Young Seungwan, awed by this stranger’s very presence, could not—for the first time in her life—find the right words. “A-are you Bae Joohyun?” she squeaked.

 

Joohyun nodded, no more than a slight dip of her chin. “What were you doing?” she asked again.

 

“Oh!” Seungwan glanced at the snoozing proprietor nervously. “I-it’s something I like to do,” she whispered, blushing furiously. “It just...feels nice. Do you...want to try?”

 

Joohyun blushed, her eyes flitting anxiously from the shopkeeper to the beans to Seungwan’s face. Sensing her discomfort, Seungwan stood a little closer, shielding their hands from view as they dipped them into the shining pool of beans.

 

From there, an awkward encounter quickly blossomed into friendship. They met on the same day every week, Joohyun keeping Seungwan company while she waited for Seulgi. “I can be myself with you,” Joohyun confessed one day. She handed Seungwan a popsicle from the general store—her treat.

 

“Even though I’m just a kid?” Seungwan said, grinning widely as she accepted Joohyun’s gift.

 

Joohyun shrugged. “They don’t get it. What it’s like to be…different.”

 

Seungwan soon learned was that Joohyun was painfully shy. She had spent her life under the spotlight, but no matter what she tried, she could not make it go away. Slowly, but surely, twelve-year-old Son Seungwan began to coach fifteen-year-old Bae Joohyun, teach her to breathe, teach her to accept the world with open arms. To accept the world, even if the world wasn’t ready to accept her back.

 

And Seulgi, oblivious to it all, couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when the rift began to grow between her and her best friend. She hadn’t noticed the faraway stares and frequent smiles, or the constant sighs of a girl who had, somewhere along the way, fallen in love with a beautiful upperclassman.

 

No, Joohyun would be the first of many secrets Seungwan hid from Seulgi.

 

Several weeks later, Seulgi’s power awakened. It was a confusing, uncomfortable, and very awkward transition period. Seungwan tackled five girls and three boys to the ground before they discovered the cause, and when Joohyun somehow got tangled up in the mess—Seungwan couldn’t quite explain why she had pushed Seulgi down instead of Joohyun. Seeing them together triggered something painful, and even though it was never Seulgi’s fault, a petty part of her couldn’t forgive what happened.

 

Their rift began to grow.

 

At the end of the year, Seungwan’s parents decided to send her abroad. North America. They’d done the research—there were others like her there. She bade farewell to Seulgi, and spilled her soul. She told her the truth about her feelings for Joohyun, made her promise not to ever tell. Seulgi wrapped an arm around her best friend, and mended the rift with love. It was going to be okay. They were going to be okay. In time, Seulgi knew, she could forgive everything. Seungwan was her best friend. They were going to be okay.

 

Seungwan bade farewell to Joohyun too, in the dusty alley beside the general store one sunny day. Joohyun had prepared a song—little did she understand her own powers then—and the results would change the course of their relationship forever. The song drew them together like magnets, and there—beside the store where they first met—they shared a kiss.

 

A kiss they would spend the next six years trying to forget.

 

Seungwan’s time in North America was a blur. She made friends, fit in with the local jackalopes at her new school, and got the grades to keep her parents happy. Once in a while, she would think of her hometown. She’d think of Seulgi’s daily messages, and Joohyun’s sparse notes too. She thought often of what would happen if she stayed, and as happy as she was that the distance seemed to bring her closer to her best friend, a part of her was disappointed too. Especially when it felt like Seulgi and Joohyun began replacing her with each other.

 

Joohyun’s friendship with Seulgi grew when Joohyun entered high school. High school was bigger. Broader. It sat between three towns, and invited many who did not take kindly to the supernatural. And even though puberty was kind, her wings grew bigger and bigger. In those first days, when the heart-crushing emotions of finding her desk carved out and her locker vandalized became too much, Seulgi was Joohyun’s saving grace. They teased her relentlessly, though it was easy to see they were smitten with her too—young boys and awkward girls, trying to get her attention in the worst of ways. Seulgi was her shoulder to cry on, and—in the back of her mind—Seungwan was her strength. To accept the world, even if the world wasn’t ready to accept her yet—Joohyun carried this, carried Seungwan wherever she went.

 

Seulgi herself became notorious among her peers and those beyond. People gave her a wide berth, and though they spoke on the phone often, Seungwan couldn’t quite fill the emptiness she left behind with a few voice recordings. Joohyun was the closest thing to a rock she had in those days, though she felt no less alone. She didn’t understand the obsession with dating, didn’t understand the need for anything beyond a friendly touch—she felt leagues behind her peers, and a poor excuse for a succubus. This was who she was, and Seungwan wasn’t around to tell her it was okay. Not when it mattered.

 

Joohyun didn’t really seem to get it, but she tried. Seulgi could tell how hard she tried to fill in the void that Seungwan left behind; she could tell how impossible it was to do the same for Joohyun. Still, they took care of each other in Seungwan’s stead, and traversed the awkward path to adulthood together.

 

On a cool winter day in Joohyun’s last year of high school, she discovered the depth of her power, though she did not have a name for what she was yet. She set her sights on a tall brunette, who ran into her arms and made her feel loved, whole, while she sang her love song. But the song had to come to an end, and she was left bewildered and cold. Her song. And it all made sense.

 

She wasn’t an angel, but a siren.

 

She remembered a dusty alleyway then, and understood the kiss they shared. They were kids—it was never about love. It wasn’t real. The gnawing in her stomach was an empty feeling, one that she would carry with her for years to come.

 

That day with Seungwan—it wasn’t real.

 

Soon after, Joohyun lost her faith in love. It was meaningless, a beautiful illusion, a tool at most. She turned to Seulgi for help, but the succubus shrugged. Seulgi had never cared for sex or romance. There had never been existential crises or moral qualms.

 

Joohyun decided to do the same.

 

Years later, on a misty morning at the tail end of summer, the three friends reunited on the docks of Archangel Island. They looked different now, older.

 

Seungwan had flown into Seulgi’s arms as soon as her plane touched down in Seoul, and for the rest of the trip, neither wanted to let go. Joohyun met them at the docks, her wings fully grown and her very presence awe-inspiring. Seungwan could hardly believe she was the same person.

 

By then, in Joohyun’s fourth year, she had become both famous and infamous. She was feared and revered, with a frigid heart and the power to attract whoever she wanted, which was a power Joohyun shamelessly abused. It was quite something to end up in Joohyun’s bed, and many students at ArcIsland wore the honour like a trophy despite the knowledge of how many came before them. Really, it was no secret that Joohyun didn’t believe in love.

 

Even so, many speculated that Joohyun and Yongsun, ArcIsland’s most popular vampiric princess, secretly formed the most powerful couple on campus. Joohyun and her best friend, who had stuck by her side since their first year, were the constant subjects of rumours.

 

Undeniably, something tugged at Seungwan’s heart when she heard the rumours, but in her first few weeks at ArcIsland, she barely had time to think about them. People had seen Joohyun pick them up, had seen all the time she spent with the infamous siren, and though people thought she was just a simple target at first, it was quickly apparent that Joohyun had no plans to serenade the intriguing newcomers.

 

And for that first year together, things were fine.

 

For Joohyun—it was awkward at first. The sight of seeing her childhood friends as grown women took some getting used to, but, really, things were fine.

 

For Seulgi—no one was happier to be at ArcIsland than her. To have her two best friends back—it was more than anything else she could ever want. Yes, they were all different now, but she didn’t care.

 

For Seungwan—she loved being able to hug Seulgi again. It was different, however, with Joohyun. She didn’t quite know what to do about this new cool and aloof Joohyun, especially when being beside her was still enough to give her butterflies. Fortunately, she had a bit of a secret weapon—her rabbit form.

 

When she showed them the adorable new form that she’d acquired from her time overseas, Joohyun and Seulgi fought over who got to hold her first. They ruffled her fur and babbled her name like she was a puppy—it was a shock, to say the least, when Seungwan told them to stop in her human voice. Since then, Seungwan loved her rabbit form. The thing she looked forward to the most every day was Joohyun’s gentle, careful touch when she picked her up, and the way she thoughtlessly squeezed her close every morning when she flew her to class. Even if they seldom spoke when they were alone, she felt closer to Joohyun than she had in a long while.

 

The first year they became a trio passed easily. Seulgi and Seungwan were well-liked, easily fitting in, and, as roommates, they had plenty of chances to catch up and remove their old scars. Joohyun tutored them when she had time, and secretly adored the easiness in their friendship.

 

Except when she was left alone with Seungwan. Which was every morning. She often flew in silence, content with the feeling of Seungwan’s fur between her fingers, and luckily, Seungwan respected that. No matter how much of a happy buffer Seulgi was, being alone with Seungwan terrified Joohyun. It threatened The Plan, and threatened to expose her. Sure, Joohyun had given up on wishing whatever happened in the alley was real, but it was a wish she wanted to deny ever having. After all, no amount of wishing could make it real, or change the fact that her power of song existed to torment her.

 

The Plan was to rekindle an old friendship—no more, no less. Just between her and Seungwan. Even if she was no longer the same Joohyun who dipped her hands in a sack of beans. That Joohyun was long gone. But did Seungwan have to know that? Sure, she must’ve heard the rumours, but there was still a part of her that didn’t want Seungwan to know. Joohyun didn’t think she could handle Seungwan’s disappointment.

 

It seemed, in that first year, that The Plan was working. That maybe this peaceful life would be a template for their future years at ArcIsland together.

 

But with most plans, this one began to shift just before the start of Seungwan and Seulgi’s second year. And, no matter how much Joohyun will later deny this, it had very little to do with the disruptive entrance of Moon Byulyi.

 

Ugh, Byulyi.

 

Joohyun would be a master’s student in the fall, as well as the newly appointed dorm supervisor at the nomination of Yongsun. Kim Yongsun was Joohyun’s best friend—being the same age, and without the awkwardness of having to negotiate her past, they shared a friendship unlike anything else.

 

It was, for all intents and purposes, an ordinary meeting.

 

Yongsun was Joohyun’s very first room mate, and was unabashedly stringent about her rule against strangers in their shared room. Yongsun—Joohyun had very nearly said to her face once—was a prude. Still, Joohyun could not hate her. As annoying as she was whenever she chastised Joohyun about casual sex, Yongsun was a very likeable person, and was widely admired for both her beauty and intellect, having already accomplished far more than any of her peers at her age. She was sweet to boot, but matter of fact. Stern, but soft. In one moment, she would lecture Joohyun’s ear off about endangering her own health, and in another she would pull Joohyun from her drunken haze at various parties. Whether she was invited to the party or not. There were times when Joohyun considered those dating rumours, considered how good they would be together, but it was no use. Though she didn’t know the depth of it then, the ghost of Seungwan’s love still hung over her, convincing her that love was dead.

 

Still, Yongsun was beautiful, sweet, kind, and beyond anything Joohyun deserved, and she swore, somewhere along the way, that she would protect her. She swore to work hard and hoped to one day be worthy of her friendship.

 

And though she seldom kept secrets from Yongsun, she never did tell her how much she reminded her of Seungwan in those early days. Even if she couldn’t quite fill in the hole that Seungwan left.

 

In time, Seungwan’s friendship would mend the hole, Joohyun told herself. Just stick to The Plan. But just before Seungwan’s second year began, The Plan fell apart. A year’s worth of work shredded in a single night.

 

On a blistering summer day, Yongsun hired a luxurious yacht to celebrate their official move into their new rooms. At first, Joohyun was angry that Yongsun had pulled the strings to room her with Seungwan—it was dangerous, but there was no better opportunity to grow their friendship again. Seulgi moved in next door, and Joohyun’s stomach fluttered with the thought of either of them knowing how much she slept around, even if she had calmed down a lot since her first two years. Though she was not oblivious to the rumours, there was still a certain sanctity to maintaining that facade. But the anger didn’t last long. All Seungwan had to do was smile at her—that lopsided, toothy, eager grin—and she couldn’t help but look forward to the move. So, really, she was only too happy to celebrate.

 

Out on the ocean that day, Joohyun felt free in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. Oh, she was determined to. The salty air, the music, the familiar bodies, the barrels of booze. It was the first party where both Seulgi and Seungwan was invited too, and Joohyun could not deny trying to drown her hyper-awareness of the two with alcohol.

 

But she let down her guard.

 

And did the unthinkable.

 

They had been reminiscing inside the cabin. Joohyun needed a glass of water and Seungwan was eager to help, though she was too inebriated herself to be much use, so they simply sat on a long, white couch and talked. Seungwan had her head lolled back, her grin wide and goofy as they relayed their happiest memories together. She was dangerously adorable.

 

“Remember that song you sang for me?” Seungwan said. Her cheeks were ruddy in her tipsy state, and Joohyun couldn’t take her eyes off her.

 

“Do you want me to sing it to you?” Joohyun was sober enough to know what this meant, and it was a question Seungwan wasn’t quite sober enough to be careful of. But in that moment, Seungwan’s lips were so inviting, and she wanted them badly.

 

She scooted a little closer, closing the little space between their thighs. Seungwan giggled, and leaned into Joohyun.

 

“Yes.”

 

And so she did. The kiss was tender, sweet, and far more electric than the kiss she’d spent years glorifying in her memory. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was this side of Seungwan she never knew—all red lips, long lashes, and sinful smiles. This side of Seungwan that she wished she never met.

 

The song gave them two hours, and Joohyun was determined to commit every millisecond to memory, because this was the first and last time they’d ever go this far. It had to be. Even if it was the most beautiful night of her life, making love—for she wasn’t quite sober enough to call it anything else—with the pale moonlight streaming in through the porthole. At the end of those two hours, Seungwan laid on the long couch, softly snoring as Joohyun pulled her jacket over her naked body. Then, half-dressed and defeated by the reality of the situation, Joohyun hid in the bathroom and cried.

 

They never talked about this night, at least not for a long time.

 

A couple months of summer pass by, enough time for Joohyun to run away from Seungwan just a little longer as she followed Yongsun to Romania to visit her extended family.

 

And then, Moon Byulyi. That dumb werewolf.

 

Joohyun did not like Byulyi. She made a list of reasons why.

 

Byulyi was an ignorant newbie in this world  
Byulyi was an idiot  
Byulyi was a werewolf  
Byulyi was an idiot who somehow managed to charm people with her werewolf powers  
Byulyi was a werewolf

 

Joohyun hated werewolves and their cliquey culture and how everyone is for some reason beautiful or roguishly handsome or both. She hated that they were so weirdly irresistibly charming, even if they were idiots, and how they liked wearing leather jackets like they were in a gang. Worst of all, werewolves were bigger gossips than a troupe of middle aged women at a family reunion.

 

Ok, so maybe she was still a little annoyed about that one time at a party when she and Hani—no, no, this was about Moon Byulyi.

 

Moon Byulyi was possibly the most dangerous werewolf of all. She never wore leather jackets, always looking so smartly dressed it was like she was ready to solve a case for British intelligence at any moment. She was so individual. A rogue wolf. Unpredictable. The absolute worst kind of werewolf.

 

She didn’t understand why Seulgi liked her. But Seulgi liked everyone. It was Seungwan’s friendliness she didn’t like. Wolves eat rabbits for dinner.

 

And Joohyun sure as hell didn’t miss the way she looked at Seungwan when they broke up the fight. Sure, it turned out to just be a short-lived wave of relief, but first impressions were very important. And the way she later watched her slobbering over Yongsun sure didn’t help.

 

Ugh, dogs.

 

It was like Byulyi was out to get her, prying her closest friends away from her one by one—Joohyun told herself to calm down. Be rational. Seulgi and Seungwan were old enough to hang out with whoever they wanted to. It wasn’t her business.

 

But there was something else.

 

Yongsun seemed drawn to Byulyi in a way no one could explain. Werewolf magic. Joohyun couldn’t help but be concerned about Yongsun—she had never seen her so restless. There was something there—a secret Yongsun kept from her. She kept a close watch.

 

And much to Seungwan’s incredible dismay in that first week, Joohyun became an absent room mate, too far into her duties as supervisor and protective best friend (and victim of an ‘idiotic infatuation’) to spend the night in her own room. Seungwan would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious about where Joohyun went at night, but she tried not to lose heart—it wasn’t her business. They still spent time together when Joohyun carried her to class every morning. Besides, she was glad to have a bit of time by herself to process the events of that night. Alone in her own room, she thought back often to that night on the yacht and how beautiful Joohyun looked under those moonbeams. She still couldn’t believe her own courage, asking a siren for her song—by then, she had done plenty of research on the subject.

 

It was an experiment with results she didn’t know what to do with. Her hypothesis was that a siren’s song would accelerate her feelings far past its threshold, and maybe, hopefully, probably, explode into nothingness and give her a sense of closure once and for all. She’d wondered many times whether her infatuation was a very long-term effect of Joohyun’s song all those years ago, but she could not deny the feelings that brewed long before the song. Unfortunately, out on the yacht that day, Seungwan learned that her feelings could not explode.

 

In fact, the song had no effect on her at all. And that was rather unsettling, especially when Seungwan wasn’t drunk enough to blame the alcohol.

 

The next day, Seungwan rushed to the library and learned that jackalopes had the ridiculous ability to absorb and learn music. In theory, she could even repeat the siren song. But how could she tell Joohyun? It quickly occurred to her that no matter how intimate that night had been, she easily could’ve been just another in Joohyun’s long line of lovers, and it was her own stupid feelings that were muddling everything up.

 

Maybe a tiny part of her wanted Joohyun to keep believing it was the song. It was, for a lack of a better reason, just easier.

 

So Seungwan decided to do what she had done since middle school: bury those feelings. All of them. At least, until she found a place to put them, which seemed rather unlikely. Since Joohyun seemed to be avoiding her over the summer months, the last thing she wanted to do was jeopardize their friendship even further. No, it was safe to assume that it would be best to put it behind them—pretend it was just a mistake. An accident.

 

An accident she could carry with her for the rest of her life like a souvenir. Surely in a few years, it would be easy to look back and laugh. So she bit down and spent the next several weeks like nothing had changed. Hell, she even learned to joke about Joohyun’s siren song. It was best not to take any chances.

 

Everything was back to normal.

 

By the time school came around, she even made new friends. Seungwan liked Byulyi—thought she was funny, and earnest, if a bit clumsy. She didn’t understand why Joohyun hated her so much, at least not at first. And she had to admit that Byulyi’s friendship with Seulgi was pretty cute.

 

As soon as Yongsun entered the picture, it all made sense. She had been suspecting for some time now that there was a bit of truth behind the rumours around Joohyun and Yongsun, and even if they were not officially together, it was clear that Joohyun cared a lot for Yongsun. The thought of it wrenched her heart. Whatever they had on the yacht—Seungwan was sure now that it was a mistake.

 

But it wasn’t a mistake stayed silent for long.

 

At the end of September, on a particularly cold and lonely night, Seungwan invited Seulgi downstairs into the communal kitchen to bake brownies with her.

 

“I think I’m still in love with Joohyun,” Seungwan mumbled as she aggressively mixed the batter in a metal bowl. A part of her hoped that Seulgi wouldn’t hear her, but it was late at night and not a soul was around.

 

“Well, yeah, I could’ve told you that,” came Seulgi’s unexpected reply. She had her hand in a bowl of chocolate chips, and lips in a playful grin.

 

Seungwan couldn’t believe it. “You knew?”

 

Seulgi shrugged, and popped two chocolate chips into her mouth. “It was obvious. I just thought you didn’t want to tell me.”

 

Seungwan nudged her lightly with a shoulder. “You know I hate keeping secrets from you, Seul.”

 

Seulgi smiled. “I kind of get it though. I’m just a weird asexual succubus, what do I know about love, right?”

 

“Probably a lot more than me,” Seungwan sulked, throwing another handful of chocolate chips into the mixing bowl. “You’re very observant.”

 

“Joohyun-unnie cares about you a lot though. Maybe she likes you back?”

 

Seungwan stopped mixing and fixed her stare on the deep brown mixture. “It’s not the same.”

 

Seulgi sighed. They’d been here too many times for her to count. So she said the only thing she knew Seungwan wanted to hear: “Okay.”

 

Seungwan thought for a moment. She put everything down and wiped at the flour on her face with the back of her hand. “Can I try something?”

 

“Wan-ah, your face is really intense right now…”

 

Seungwan shook her head. “Sorry, just a lot on my mind. Please.”

 

“Okay, um, well I’ll do whatever I can to help?”

 

Seungwan’s expression softened into a smile. “Thanks, Seulgom.” She bit her lip, her eyes darting about nervously, then dusted the flour off her hands her hands and pulled Seulgi in front of her. “Don’t move, and don’t speak, okay? Just listen.” Seulgi nodded slowly, her arms stiff by her side, her face lined with worry.

 

Seungwan opened her mouth and sang the most beautiful melody Seulgi had ever heard. The siren’s song was irresistible, even to the normally placid succubus.

 

As soon as the last note left Seungwan’s lips, Seulgi reached for her hand and laced their fingers together, her gloved hands burning hot against Seungwan’s skin. Seungwan shuffled back, unsure what to expect.  

 

“Wan, I—that was such a beautiful song, and I don’t know what’s happening—I feel all warm and fuzzy inside.” She marched into Seungwan’s space, pinning her against the counter with both arms on either side. “I’ve never noticed how pretty you were,” Seulgi mumbled, craning forward to plant a kiss on her neck.

 

Oh no.

 

She did not think this through.

 

“Seul, stop, this is really weird,” Seungwan cried, pushing her back. But her best friend could not be moved.

 

Seungwan’s mind flashed back to Byulyi, and how Seulgi had been in her exact position just weeks ago. Except she was by herself in a kitchen, and this was her innocent best friend.

 

“Oh god how long does this last?” Seungwan wondered out loud. She clasped a hand over Seulgi’s puckered lips. “Seriously, Seul, stop! This isn’t you! Aish, what if someone comes in here?”

 

“But you smell so good.”

 

“Seul, ew, seriously, this isn’t funny. W-what are you doing? That’s my—Seul! Get your hands off my boob, you dumb bear!”

 

In response, Seulgi slid a knee between Seungwan’s legs, the movement so sudden that poor the jackalope jerked back, knocking over the bag of flour and sending a cloud of white bursting in between them.

 

Seulgi broke away, coughing and blinking away the white dust. “Wanni-i-i-ie!” She whined—it was an unsettling amount of aegyo, and Seungwan hoped she never had to hear it again after this blew over. “Don’t you love me?”

 

“Aish, not like this!” Seungwan said, holding both arms out uselessly as Seulgi barged her way back in between them.

 

“Ahh, but Wannie you smell so nice and you look so pretty and I just want to hug you and kiss you, please, please, please!”

 

Seungwan pressed her forearm to Seulgi’s collarbone, fending her off rather unsuccessfully given Seulgi’s height advantage. “No, no, no! Snap out of it, Seul!”

 

It was a draining back and forth, until Seungwan found herself halfway on the kitchen counter, with Seulgi latched to her neck like a very thirsty, very handsy vampire. And it was in this moment that Joohyun walked into the room, dropped her backpack, and lost her shit.

 

Seungwan said nothing as she demurely accepted Joohyun’s wrath with Seulgi’s arms glued to her waist. Joohyun went on about respect and the sanctity of a shared space—on and on until Seungwan was certain she didn’t even know why she was angry anymore.

 

Seungwan really didn’t think this through.

 

She stormed off before anyone else could get a word in, but the storm continued to brew for several more days. Joohyun avoided them; Seungwan took a gryphon to class. Eventually she had taken the same black gryphon around so often that she deemed him her favourite. His name was Atlas, and he was her friend. He listened to her and didn’t leap to conclusions, and certainly didn’t childishly run away from his problems like someone else she knew.

 

Seungwan hated herself for acting so childishly, but trusted it to all blow over in a few days. It would’ve at least, had Joohyun not cornered her.

 

Outside, right by the Spire. In public.

 

With a damning accusation.

 

“Seungwan, are you avoiding me?”

 

 “What?”

 

“You heard me.” Joohyun crosses her arms, her brows furrowed deep.

 

“Unnie, you’re being ridiculous.”

 

“Oh, I’m the one being ridiculous now after you—”

 

“Stop! This is a public place! And you were the one avoiding me.”

 

Seulgi jogged up to them then with a cheery greeting and a wave, but stopped immediately at the sight of her friends glaring at each other. The tension was thick with something she didn’t quite understand. She couldn’t remember most of that night in the kitchen, but it was clear that something had shifted between the three of them.

 

More accusations flew—no one seemed to know where to put their hurt. Even the mild-mannered Seungwan could not keep so many feelings under wraps for that long. A crowd began to gather, curious about the vague little jabs directed between them.

 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” One would say.

 

“Can’t you listen just once?” Another might say.

 

It was a roundabout way to fight about Seungwan’s “late-night kitchen rendezvous” as Joohyun put it, but there seemed to be a mutual agreement that it was about so much more. If they could only find the right words to say. Perhaps it had all been just a roundabout way of giving up on their broken friendship, or the acknowledgment that they could never go back to their younger days.

 

All things must come to an end—that was for certain.

 

It started with this fight.

 

Byulyi bumped into Seulgi. The crowd lost interest as crowds often do. Everyone left. Eventually, it was just the three of them, huddled in different corners of the campus, trying not to cry too loudly.

 

But things could be reborn.

 

And it started with that night.

 

Joohyun returned to the dorm that day with a bottle of reconciliatory champagne. It wasn’t much, but it had been eating away at her all day. The look on Seungwan’s face was so—how could she hurt her like that? Even if her feelings were unrequited, they were friends first and foremost. She had been selfish, and god, she didn’t want to dissect all the emotions she had felt when she saw Seungwan and Seulgi together. Was still feeling.

 

Fortunately, Seungwan had the same idea with a fresh plate of cookies. So, they lit a candle, and shared their cookies and champagne over awkward apologies and easy conversation. At least, until the champagne bottle emptied.

 

Pink-cheeked Seungwan was the first to break.

 

“That night on the boat...it was really nice,” she said into the no-longer-comfortable silence that had befallen them.

 

Joohyun laughed a little too loudly. She was on the floor, her head in Seungwan’s lap, her limbs way too heavy to move. “Wan-ah, you’re drunk,” she mumbled, reaching up to cover Seungwan’s face with a palm.

 

“I’m not. You are,” Seungwan cried, her voice muffling against the heel of Joohyun’s palm. For no reason at all, she pressed her lips against the soft hand, and nuzzled against it with her cheek.

 

Joohyun grazed a finger from her cheek to her lips. “You’re so beautiful in the candlelight,” she thought out loud.

 

Seungwan swallowed. “Unnie, I—”

 

Joohyun clasped her hand onto Seungwan’s mouth. “We shouldn’t,” she said.

 

But they do. They burn, perfect and passionate in each other’s arms, as if in that moment alone they were built for each other and nothing else mattered. This can’t happen again, they tell themselves over and over.

 

But it does, and it drove Joohyun crazy. Seungwan always looked at her whenever they made love—no, no, they slept together. That was all. There was no love. Friendship, yes, but nothing more. Several times Seungwan looked ready to confess everything to her, and each time Joohyun was tempted to know, because god, what if she felt the same way?

 

But love was a lie. At least for her. Seungwan—whatever she felt for her—it was an illusion. A very real one, but an illusion nonetheless, and she knew that as soon as she heard the words she wanted so desperately to hear, there would be no turning back. Joohyun would dive head-first—she’d devote everything, then it’ll all go away in a puff of smoke when they realize they’d simply been under a spell. She couldn’t risk that with Seungwan. Anybody but Seungwan.

 

If only she could stop herself from finding excuses, finding new bottles, and finding new songs to give her courage. If only she could stop all this wanting.

 

If only they didn’t somehow become friends with too-good-to-be-true benefits.

 

If only she wasn’t born a fucking siren.


	7. Meanwhile: Ahn Hyejin & Jung Wheein

Many moons ago, Ahn Hyejin and Jung Wheein met on Martyr Mountain, a cemetery famous for the most glorious sunsets in all of Jeonju. But they didn’t meet beneath the romantic orange glow of the evening sun, but rather deep in seclusion, far away from devout pilgrims and loving couples. They met in a hidden nook in the woods, where all the home-schooled children of supernatural birth came to play twice a month.

 

Hyejin’s mother was a proud gumiho. She taught her almost everything she knew, from her abilities down to her fierce, independent, self-preserving attitude. Most of all, she taught her to never hide your tails. The tails of a gumiho symbolized one’s worth—the more you had the wiser you were and the more respect you commanded. Hyejin’s mother was a fully-fledged nine-tailed gumiho, and she never let anyone forget it.

 

They lived in a grand stone mansion carved out of the mountain itself. It was often cold, when the wind whistled through the tunnels, but her mother had enough sense and wealth to turn their cave home into a veritable Versailles.

 

Her mother was seldom home, and Hyejin preferred it that way. Aside from her mother’s rigorous lessons, they rarely interacted. Her mother showered her with wealth, and she never asked where the money came from—it was a simple enough transaction. She was, after all, being groomed to take her place.

 

Hyejin lived a life of complete leisure. She had her own private fleet of fox servants—even a personal valet who followed her everywhere—in addition to the fox familiars who kept the house, and nothing was ever denied to her. She could have anything she want, and thus she spent most of her life not knowing how to want.

 

She took up hobbies as a cure for boredom, but mostly spent her days reading books and dreaming of places full of adventure and excitement. Even from a young age, she undeniably had her fixations. For weeks on end, she would study the things that interested her, be it chemistry, psychology, philosophy, botany, mechanical engineering, syntax, astronomy, technology, or anything else that caught her fancy. As short-lived as they were, it was enough for her to gain her tails far faster than most other gumiho. She might have even thrived in university at a young age.

 

If not for her mother’s plans.

 

Wheein was, in her own way, the opposite of Hyejin—she had spent her entire life loved, and never wanted anything more than that in spite of their poverty.

 

Wheein was a happy bundle of joy when a young couple found her abandoned in the mountains. Because they could not have children of their own, they raised her as their own, and if there were one thing Wheein never lacked, it was love. Her father worked at the cemetery on Martyr Mountain. He kept the place clean, and his family fed. Even if it wasn’t much, he always made sure his family never starved. Even if it wasn’t much, they tried as best they could to give her the world. In their own way, as Wheein had always understood it, they did just that. Truly, they were a family built on miracles.

 

It was obvious that Wheein was something special at a very young age, having woken up half-transformed on more than one occasion. The infant Wheein might have a nub of a tail on one day, and a body of grey fur on the next. Soon it was her whole head transformed, or left hand. For years, Wheein would have at least a pair of fluffy, rounded ears atop her head. It was alarming, but her foster parents loved her very much. Not wanting her to be ridiculed by the kids at the nearest school, they decided to home-school her.

 

They taught her everything that they knew, from what it meant to be human to the little they had researched about her abilities. Wheein’s father was an excellent storyteller, and transformed her world with fables and fairy tales. There was always a bit of magic and a lesson to learn.

 

When she was old enough to control the transformation—enough, at least, to hide under her clothes or a nice hat—she’d sometimes go down to the closest library. It was a two-hour trek from their secluded home in the mountains, but it was worth it. She continued to consume those stories, consume the worlds, and the contexts they were built upon—but still, she loved her father’s stories the best. Young Wheein had the dream of putting her father’s stories into a book. Perhaps a picture book, and thus developed an interest in illustration. She quickly found that she was a talented artist, enough to later earn her multiple scholarships.

 

But both Ms. Ahn and Mr. and Mrs. Jung wanted their child to meet other kids. To get out there and learn to socialize with their peers. And fortunately for them, an overeager family of haetae established a place in Martyr Mountain and called for all young and secluded supernatural children to come and learn the rules of socialization.

 

Ms. Ahn hated the self-righteous haetae and their boring politics, but she saw it as an opportunity for Hyejin to put her skills to practice, and—perhaps most of all—show the world that a perfectly groomed gumiho was not to be trifled with. And so, she sent Hyejin off with a stern look.

 

“Don’t disappoint me,” she said.

 

The Jungs didn’t really understand, but they saw it as an opportunity for Wheein to make friends. They fussed and they worried, but eventually, they hugged her close and sent her off with a teary smile.

 

“Go have fun,” they said. “We’ll be here.”

 

And so, on a foggy afternoon, the kids came together in a secluded nook in the woods. It was a small group in that first year when Hyejin and Wheein met, back when most supernatural beings stayed closeted in their own realms.

 

Fashionable seven-year-old Hyejin was the last to arrive. She cast her eyes at the ragtag group of supernatural children—two haetae, a lamia, a demi-dragon, and a girl with rounded ears and a dimpled grin. She settled on the girl with a grin.

 

It was love at first sight. Hyejin didn’t understand it then—she didn’t have a word for it yet. All she knew was that this girl was going to be hers, and she was going to tell her so. Young Hyejin, with her designer dress and cocky smile, strode up to the girl with the rounded ears, pointed at her, and declared: “You are mine.”

 

And though none of the other kids quite understood what had happened, they clamped their mouths shut, and shuffled further away to converse amongst themselves. Even the supervising adult, a shrivelled old haetae, did not comment. This left the bewildered girl alone with the gumiho.

 

“I’m Hyejin,” the gumiho said, extending a hand as if it would be the biggest honour of the girl’s life to take it. “We’re going to be best friends.”

 

The bear-eared girl stepped back a bit, her mouth tugged back in discomfort, just enough for her dimple to surface. “I’m not sure—”

 

Hyejin frowned. “Why aren’t you taking my hand?”

 

“I don’t want to,” Wheein said, matter-of-factly.

 

Hyejin blinked. “But you’re mine.”

 

“No, I’m not.”

 

They gawked at each other, brown eyes swimming in mirrored confusion. Neither seemed to understand what was going on. The girl’s reaction was so unexpected and new that Hyejin couldn’t even be angry. Her lip curled, her mind blank. Hyejin dropped her hand, and squeezed the empty air.

 

This girl—she was interesting. Very interesting.

 

The silence bore down until, finally, the girl with the rounded ears—admittedly afraid of the Hyejin’s stiff posture and intense expression—ran off to join the others.

 

When Wheein got home that day, she didn’t know how to tell her parents about this strange gumiho named Hyejin, especially when she herself didn’t know how to feel about the bold and exciting new stranger. Hyejin was so fearless—and admittedly a little cool when she declared Wheein to be hers, whatever that meant—but there was something else about her too.

 

When she had run away to the safety of the other children, Hyejin had hung back, awkwardly standing at the edge of the clearing throughout the session, not quite knowing what to do with herself. She looked...not angry, but genuinely puzzled as she watched the other kids play. Once in awhile, she turned to speak to an accompanying fox familiar perched slightly behind her on a damp log. It was like she had been assessing them; most of all, it was like she had been assessing her.

 

Wheein didn’t have any friends her age, and certainly it was her first time playing with kids like her, but it was like Hyejin had never even seen other kids.

 

One rainy afternoon, Wheein was drawing by the dim bulb above the kitchen table when her mother happened to pass by with a basket of laundry. “What’s this, Wheeinie? One of your new friends?” Her mother asked, glancing over at her work with a warm smile.

 

Wheein thought for a moment. Were they friends? Hyejin certainly seemed to think so. “I guess you can say that,” Wheein replied. She tapped her pencil against her chin, and thought about how best to capture Hyejin’s piercing eyes and her two pretty, silver-blue tails.

 

“Is she a gumiho?” Her mother asked, putting the laundry down to take a closer look.

 

“Yeah, I think so. Actually, I’m not sure how I feel about her yet?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Wheein hummed. She didn’t want to sound mean—after all, her parents taught her to be kind to everyone—but she wasn’t sure how else to explain it. “Um, she’s kind of weird,” Wheein said, shifting nervously as she glanced up at her mother’s patient smile.

 

“How so?”

 

“Umma, I don’t think she’s ever...met other kids before.”

 

Her mother tilted her head. “Do you mean she’s never met...special children before?”

 

Wheein shook her head. “I don’t think she’s met anybody in her life. But I think she wants to be my friend,” she paused for a moment, “what do I do if I don’t want to be her friend? I mean...she didn’t even ask for my name.”

 

“Hmm, that’s not an easy question,” her mother replied, running her hand over the edge of Wheein’s drawing. The portrait of the young fox-girl stared back at her with such a fire that not even lead and paper could fully disguise its effect on the artist. Wheein’s face—there was something else about the gumiho that caught her daughter’s attention. Ah, but they were young—she put the thought out of her head, and continued her next thought out loud “Maybe you should give her a chance first.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Despite her promise to her mother, Wheein was anxious about seeing Hyejin again. Two weeks later, they were to meet at the same place and the same time. After the awkwardness of their first encounter, a part of her hoped she wouldn’t come, but another part was hopelessly intrigued. Fortunately, it was the latter part that won out.

 

Hyejin was the first to arrive to their play date that day, and she came bearing gifts. By the time her beloved teddy bear—as she fell into the habit of secretly calling her—arrived, the other kids each held a lollipop, shaped like the head of a fox, in their mouths. And for the girl with the round ears, Hyejin produced, from behind her back, a whole bouquet of fox-shaped lollipops.

 

She pushed the bouquet into her hands, then took a step back. When the girl didn’t say anything, she fidgeted with the expensive, silver watch on her wrist, and began to explain. “Mr. Foxley says I should try to be nice by giving gifts. I don’t like listening to him because he speaks with a weird accent—he’s from England—but he says that I was not very nice last week, and I should be nice if I want to be your friend.”

 

“Thank you,” the girl mumbled. Awed by the colourful lollipops in her hands—for, much unlike little Hyejin who could have all the candy in the world if she asked for it, Wheein had never seen so much candy in one place, much less in her own hands—she didn’t know what else to say.

 

“So, um, will you...will you be my friend? I-I read once that it’s nice to ask,” Hyejin said with an uncharacteristic blush.

 

To her relief, her teddy bear nodded. Hyejin shifted a little now, at the sudden awareness that the other kids were watching her teddy bear enviously—she raised a fist, and prepared to fight anyone who dared to challenge her.

 

It was her teddy bear who spoke first: “I’ll be your friend, Hyejin, but”—the smile on Hyejin’s face fell as suddenly as it came— “this isn’t how you give presents.”

 

Hyejin tilted her head, her twin tails flickering curiously behind her. “I don’t understand.”

 

Unexpectedly, the girl knelt down and pulled the bouquet apart. Hyejin gasped—her first instinct was to march the short distance between them and shake her and yell, but a glance at the patient Mr. Foxley, who shook his head sombrely, calmed her enough for her to hold back. Still, she could not help the hurt and anger filling her up as she watched her teddy bear dismantle her precious gift. A gift she had spent all morning learning how to wrap.

 

She breathed, reminded herself to be nice, and clenched her fists at her side.

 

Before she knew it, the blue wrapping paper was spread across the sparse grass. The girl, at the edge of the wrapping paper, held the bundle of lollipops in a fist. Hyejin watched her—curiosity quickly washing away the edge off her initial anger—as she divided the lollipops into six equal piles, one at a time, until two remained. Then, the girl beckoned over the other kids, and gave them each a pile of colourful lollipops.

 

Once the other kids had taken the pile they wanted, she placed one extra candy in the two remaining piles, and pointed at them. “That one is yours, and this one is mine,” she said with an adorable grin. “That way, everyone is happy!”

 

Hyejin blinked. “Why did you give away all of my candy?”

 

The girl stood, and dusted the dirt off her knees. “I’m sharing,” she said matter-of-factly.

 

“What?”

 

“I gave some to everyone so that it would be fair.”

 

“But,” Hyejin said slowly, “I already gave one to everyone.”

 

The girl shook her head. “It’s not fair if everyone has one lollipop and I have”—she looked at the bundles of lollipops in the other children’s happy hands; she hadn’t thought to count them before she gave them away—“a million! How would you feel if you were the other kids?”

 

Hyejin furrowed her brows, like she was staring down the most difficult puzzle of her life. “They’re my lollipops.”

 

“Well, yes, but what if I got everyone a gift, but I didn’t get you one?”

 

Hyejin was getting frustrated. “I gave everyone a lollipop,” she said, crossing her arms.

 

The girl unwrapped a yellow fox-shaped lollipop, and offered it to Hyejin. Hyejin didn’t understand, but she accepted the gift—her own gift—anyway. Then, her teddy bear unwrapped an orange lollipop for herself, gave it a tentative lick, and grinned.

 

Hyejin wanted to poke her dimple. Instead, she jammed the yellow lollipop into her mouth and averted her eyes.

 

“But what if I gave everyone a BIG gift,” the girl continued, “but you’re the only one who gets a little one? Maybe, um, maybe I give everyone a big hug, but I just ignore you.”

 

Hyejin nearly dropped her candy to the ground. “W-would you do that?” She asked nervously. Somehow the thought created an uncomfortable knot in her stomach. Maybe it was the candy.

 

“Of course not!” the girl said. “It would make you feel bad!”

 

“Oh...okay.” Hyejin smiled with an immense relief she could not explain. “I think I sort of get it now.”

 

Though she said this, Hyejin didn’t quite understand the concept of sharing, but she didn’t care because the smile on her teddy bear’s face was worth it. All she learned in that moment was that this girl was special, and suddenly more important than anything else. Later, when she learned the words and the depth of her feelings, Hyejin would say that she had a heart of pure gold, more valuable than anything she could ever own.

 

For the rest of her life, she would remember the way her teddy bear stood in front of her with her dusty shorts, grinning, the thin white plastic cylinder between her teeth. Hyejin would remember the way her palms sweat and her heart skipped at the sight of her dimple, as deep as the ocean. The way the trees rustled vaguely with the voices of the other children around them. The way the air was warm and still.

 

Though Hyejin did not know it then, this girl had not only taught her to share, but to love and want for the first time in her life. And this was a moment she would carry with her for the rest of her life, in memory’s infinite forms, for it was here that she made a secret vow to protect her teddy bear’s beautiful heart forever.

 

But, of course, it was not to be.

 

She would later spend years regretting the fact that she never learned her teddy bear’s name, and lamenting the fact that she would never get the chance to protect her teddy bear as she’d intended.

 

Hyejin’s mother, disgusted by what she had heard from Mr. Foxley’s account, did not want her child mingling with common folk who thought themselves proud enough to reject her child’s generosity. As a result, she decided to send Hyejin away.

 

This, Hyejin would later realize, would be the exact moment she saw her mother for who she was. The idolized image of her perfect mother shattered in a single decision, and it would be many, many years until Hyejin could bring herself to forgive her.

 

Saint Francis Academy (for the Supernatural Elite, as many would add on) was a boarding school hidden in the outskirts of Seoul. It was the best of the best among supernatural circles, and Hyejin was expected to become a star among stars.

 

For the most part, Hyejin liked her new school. Saint Francis had a familiar air about it, and the teachers were quick to recognize her gifts. Saint Francis gave her the agency and resources to satisfy every curiosity she ever had. And she was so intellectually occupied that she had no time to think about anything else. It was just the way she liked it.

 

Besides, she was, in her first year, often reminded of how much she hated her new peers. Stupidity aside, the rich brats were mean and felt themselves superior. And no one was superior to Hyejin. Hyejin did not understand where they got the audacity to tease her for living in a cave. A cave with fifteen bedrooms and twenty conjoined houses (or, to be precise, fully furnished burrows) for their 86 fox-familiar servants, but a cave nonetheless according to those over-pompous five-bedroom mansion dwellers. Finally, toward the end of the year, she picked the toughest of her tormentors and beat them up. No one ever teased her again, and, for Hyejin, that was more than worth any teacher’s wrath.

 

 Besides, her mother had been proud, and as much as she learned to loathe her mother, she never stopped looking for her approval.

 

Even so, Mr. Foxley, who had of course gone with her—it would be ridiculous to leave a child alone without at least one servant—encouraged her to try and make friends. But though Mr. Foxley had been right once in the past, Hyejin stubbornly refused.

 

Once in her second year, Hyejin almost befriended a half-vampire, but the boy had scoffed when she told him about a girl who made sure everyone had an equal number of lollipops. After that, Hyejin decided that her peers were simply not worth the time. Be they dragon, bird, or snake, they were just...boring children at the end of the day.

 

So, she threw herself into her studies, and soon found herself the subject of both admiration and fear. Her mother, when she finally took the time to ask, was proud.

 

Five years later, Hyejin was, in her own way, the queen of Saint Francis. She was the prodigal genius, the youngest five-tailed gumiho the school has ever seen. The other gumiho were split between envy and admiration; they either avoided her or scrambled over themselves to be her friend. And it was here that Hyejin found a new preoccupation that was wholly more fascinating than any of her previous, more academic, pursuits: relationships.

 

Twelve-year-old Hyejin had very few qualms about the feelings of other people, but for the sake of her new preoccupation, she experimented freely with being nice, which inevitably reminded her of a vague figure in the back of her memory. She tried not to think about it.

 

She would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy the newfound attention. She had a way with her peers that she never realized: a bat of an eye here, and a gentle smile there was enough to earn the devotion of almost anybody. It was just a matter of how long it took. Her admirers carried her books, gave her gifts, hung onto her every word—the power was almost addicting.

 

She did her research. Began experimenting with makeup. She learned that helping others sometimes resulted in returns of time, money, or favours, and was fascinated by the intricate transactions between relationships. Had she not been so clinical about her relationships, she might even have noticed how close she was to having friends. Sadly, Mr. Foxley, who had passed away a year ago, was not around to remind her.

 

A year later, her mother announced that she would have a new stepfather. A human. Hyejin wanted to throw up.

 

School became her only escape.

 

She continued discovering the nuances of relationships. It was, perhaps, one of the most complicated and fascinating and frustrating things she had ever studied. But still, she loved the power. Eventually, she even learned that if she gave away inconsequential things—like kiss on the cheek, a touch of a hand—she could have almost anything in return. If her mother had time, she would’ve been proud of her.

 

The only problem was that there was nothing she wanted.

 

Until her second year of middle school.

 

Enter Jung Wheein: a scholarship student. Beautiful, talented, and kind. Except for her ability to transform into an adorable little dog, she even had the privilege of looking completely human—a very rare and enviable phenomenon at that age. But unlike humans, Wheein never discriminated. It was easy to feel safe with Wheein. Everyone wanted to be her friend. When she came along, the other students flocked toward her, leaving Hyejin alone once again. Hyejin didn’t mind. If anything, she was just confused.

 

There were many things she did not understand about Jung Wheein. She’d seen her give away her lunch and turn down any form of compensation on several occasions. Hyejin didn’t understand why someone as poor as Wheein would make herself poorer just to benefit a rich person. Historically, that never bode well for the poor people, as far as Hyejin could recall. And of course, she didn’t want to be mean by calling Wheein poor—in truth, she wasn’t close enough to ask such personal questions—but it was a well known fact that scholarship students are just, well, different.

 

Sometimes, Wheein reminded Hyejin of her teddy bear all those years ago. But Hyejin would always shake her head—she would know her teddy bear if she ever met her again. Having spent over half a decade replaying the memory of her teddy bear offering her a yellow lollipop, she was never more certain about anything else. Besides, her teddy bear was fearless when she stood up to her and told her she didn’t want to be her friend. No one stood up to her the same way since.

 

Jung Wheein was everyone’s saviour. She never said no. Hyejin suspected she didn’t know how. No matter how inconvenient, no matter how arduous, Wheein would go above and beyond. For free.

 

Hyejin didn’t understand Wheein at all.

 

But she did know one thing: she wanted Wheein. It was a feeling she hadn’t felt since the clearing all those years ago—at least, it was similar in memory. But she was older now. Smarter. Lived a little. She’d read more books since. She knew exactly what this was. The bubbles in the tummy, the thumping heart, the air squeezing out of her chest—it was just as those sappy writers had described it.

 

Love.

 

And Wheein, for her part, didn’t seem oblivious to Hyejin’s feelings. In fact, she seemed to catch her eye far more often than not. So, Hyejin smiled her most charming smile, and batted her long made-up lashes. She sidled up to Wheein, offered her snacks, gifts, and guidance. She was determined to claim what was hers.

 

But Wheein wasn’t taking the bait. In fact, in spite of the eyes she made at Hyejin when she thought she wasn’t looking, Wheein treated Hyejin no differently than she did other students; always warm and polite, but nothing more. It was ridiculous—Hyejin was special; she was a five-tailed gumiho after all. Surely, Wheein could see that. Besides, she treated Wheein like no one else, poured her affection on her like she was the queen of her world, but Wheein—why didn’t she do the same?

 

No, this was ridiculous. Wheein needed to know that she was hers.

 

Little did Hyejin know, however, Wheein had always known this. She had known she belonged to Hyejin since she was seven-years-old.

 

There was not a day that went by where she did not think about the indomitable fox-girl with the piercing gaze, or the way she had disappeared so suddenly. For years, Wheein wondered if it was her fault for insulting the girl. She hadn’t meant to be insulting. It was just that her parents had always taught her to be a good person. That was, to her seven-year-old self, what it meant to be good.

 

She often wondered where she went, and whether she managed to make new friends. Did she still have that lonely air about her? Though Wheein spent her happy childhood on the mountain surrounded by love, she could not help but wonder what would happen if Hyejin had stayed, what would happen if they met again.

 

But as much as it secretly affected her every time she went to the clearing, she tried her best to put Hyejin out of her mind. She visited the library more often, and, once she taught herself to tuck her ears away, socialized more with the local village folk.

 

Every night, Wheein taught herself how to control her shapeshifting. Every day, she learned her lessons from the life flourishing around her—an old lady at the fish market, a boy helping his parents sell goods, the man at the library, even the birds in the mountain scenes. They taught her to live, and inspired her to draw. She held her own little gallery for the village folk the day she turned nine, and she was so well-loved that the librarian sent her art to Jeonju. By the age of ten, she published her first collection, and by ten and a half, her first picture book.

 

But as the kids in the village got a little older, they began going off to new schools. Some even chanced a new life in Jeonju. The world is competitive now, she overheard a few parents saying. They’ll need a job, a marriage, a happy life, and the only way is through a good education. Wheein’s parents nodded along, knowing full well, from the very beginning, how true this was, and how much it would all cost.

 

So, with the help of her favourite librarian, Wheein secretly applied to the best middle schools in the country. And to ease her parents’ fears of their little girl being bullied if ever she exposed her abilities, Wheein gathered a list of supernatural schools from her childhood friends, and applied to those too.

 

“Hah! Don’t bother applying to Saint Francis. You’ll never get in without a family name and a family fortune, they laughed.” Just to prove them wrong, Wheein made Saint Francis her first choice.

 

She hadn’t expected to actually get in. It didn’t feel real, even when her parents held her and cried with worry and joy, and her friends were clapping her on the back saying “Now you can do anything!” Everyone was damn proud of their little hometown hero, but still Wheein herself could hardly believe it. She must’ve read the letter a hundred times, flipped the piece of paper over and over, ran her finger over the wax seal again and again—it must’ve been a joke, she thought.

 

Even when she had donned the uniform and marched through the halls, she couldn’t quite believe it. How was she ever going to survive a school with so much prestige?

 

“Just be kind,” her father told her just before she left. “You have such a warm and beautiful soul—let that be your guide. And when you feel bad, or lonely, or angry, well, we will always be here, waiting for our sweet Wheein to come home. Until then, do your best to make people smile like you always do.”

 

So she did.

 

But then there was Hyejin.

 

On her first day of class, she had stood at the board, anxiously scanning the room to see every pair of eyes on her. But it was one particularly intense stare that caught her attention, a stare that had only haunted her for the last six years of her life.

 

On the first day of school, everyone flocked to the curious new girl with the cute smile at every chance they could. Even the snobby spider demons couldn’t resist introducing themselves—there was just something about Wheein. Many students tried to get her phone number, and she had to politely explain that she did not have a phone; when news got out that she was poor, the other students were even more fascinated.

 

They bombarded her with questions, and Wheein, finding them very amusing at times, answered them all as patiently as they could.

 

“If you don’t have a phone, do you at least have a messenger or a delivery gryphon or something?” A half-phoenix with red wings asked. And the other kids would murmur. Of course, everyone had to have a private gryphon, or at least a valet of some sort. Magic was an option too.

 

But Wheein just shrugged. “No. I will send a letter once in a while. My parents are okay with that.” A letter! How quaint! They all thought.

 

“Do you live in the dorms? How come I didn’t see you move in?” asked a rather nosy poltergeist.

 

“Shut up, you don’t even live there!” another poltergeist cried.

 

“Ah, it’s okay,” Wheein replied with a polite smile. “I, um, actually don’t live in the dorms.” The other students clamoured closer. “The scholarship didn’t cover it. I live in town.” Specifically, she stayed above a bookstore owned by the village librarian’s sister, and secretly worked after school to pay for some of her living expenses. 

 

“Isn’t the town, like, a million hours away?” asked the shaggy-haired boy with a massive pair of folded eagle wings. He was, if Wheein could recall correctly, a half-thunderbird and an American exchange student.

 

“It’s only two hours when I walk,” Wheein laughed. “The delivery truck drops me off every morning, so really, it’s only half an hour!”

 

And to Wheein, these were simply truths of her existence. It didn’t seem unusual to have to work in exchange for the little kindnesses. In her innocence, she hadn’t learned to be ashamed of who she was and where she came from—why would she when she was so grateful? But even though people clamoured to learn more about her world, she wasn’t oblivious to the way people spoke about her behind her back. It was a surprise at first—they’d seemed so nice—but it was quickly apparent that not everyone was nice.

 

Still, she didn’t let it bother her. Her father told her to do her best to be the best person she could be, and she was going to do exactly that.

 

There was, however, one thing that bothered her more than anything else.

 

Hyejin.

 

Even though Hyejin was exactly the same awe-inspiring, confident gumiho in her memory, it would be three weeks before exchanging a single word.

 

Wheein was in the library with a tower of books in her arms, when someone suddenly turned a corner and sent the spines scattering to her feet.

 

“Watch it!”

 

Wheein mumbled her apology and scrambled to pick up her books, her heart beating at the edge of hostility in the stranger’s voice.

 

“Wait, it’s you.”

 

With one knee on the carpet, Wheein looked up just in time to meet a pair of familiar brown eyes. Her heart shot right through her throat.

 

Hyejin! Kneeling down to meet her eyes, but making no effort to help her pick up her books. If it were anyone else, Wheein might’ve been annoyed, but those eyes were far too distracting.

 

The gumiho tilted her head. She was so close that Wheein didn’t know where to look—she settled for the mole by her mouth.

 

“You’re cute,” Hyejin said.

 

“W-what?”

 

Hyejin leaned in slightly. “Much cuter up close.”

 

Wheein said nothing, and awkwardly reached forward to grab a book by Hyejin’s knee. But Hyejin’s hand shot forward and grabbed her wrist. In her shock, Wheein‘s jaw silently unhinged.

 

“You remind me of someone I know,” Hyejin said. She remembered her! Wheein rejoiced internally. “But she’s a lot cuter than you.”

 

She...didn’t remember her.

 

Wheein tried to pull her hand back, but Hyejin only tightened her grip.

 

“We should be friends.”

 

Hyejin’s voice was so close, and the way she smiled now—maybe Wheein was wrong. This wasn’t the same confident, young gumiho. She was, if it was possible, even more. And these feelings that blossomed now—this was new. She couldn’t remember her childhood fascination being quite so intense, but, then again, memories are often only clear until confronted by reality.

 

“O-okay,” Wheein replied.

 

“Good.”

 

Then she stood and left, leaving Wheein alone with a pile of books scattered around her and the realization that this girl was dangerous. Hyejin was very dangerous.

 

And if she didn’t remember her, it was all the better. After all, it was her fault Hyejin left in the first place. She knew that much.

 

But keeping Hyejin at a distance was easier said than done.

 

Hyejin was an absolute hurricane when she had her sights set on something. Worse, nobody seemed to mind that Hyejin was doing whatever she wanted. Even the teachers seemed to be scared of her. So Wheein couldn’t say anything when she found Hyejin’s desk right beside hers one morning, since no one else seemed to think it was unusual. Nobody aside from Wheein seemed to be alarmed by the fact that Hyejin’s desk had been across the room from Wheein’s less than twenty-four hours prior. The other students simply pushed their desks together, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

 

They worshipped Hyejin.

 

And all the gifts Hyejin left? It was obvious from the beginning that young Hyejin hadn’t learned a thing from her lollipop bouquet lesson all those years ago.

 

On Monday, it was a piece of candy.

 

On Tuesday, it was a bag of candy.

 

Wednesday brought a gourmet lunch set of cheeseburger and fries.

 

On Thursday, lunch was upgraded to lobster tail and caviar.

 

When food didn’t seem to impress Wheein enough, Hyejin left a brand-new pair of sneakers on Wheein’s desk on Friday with her name scrawled across the top of the box, punctuated by a large red heart.

 

“Hyejin-ah, I can’t take this!” Wheein cried when she opened the box. “This is too expensive!”

 

But Hyejin just shrugged, and leaned back in her seat with that big, self-satisfied grin. “It makes you smile,” she said simply. “And I like your smile.”

 

Wheein blushed fiercely. No matter how many times Hyejin threw these kinds of lines her way, she was never going to get used to it, even if she’d heard Hyejin say the same things to other girls hundreds of times before. Keep it together, Wheein—she told herself—Hyejin is just a very nice person in a very weird way. Very straightforward.

 

Of course, she chose not to overthink the fact that no one else received Hyejin’s attention quite the same way, nor did anyone ever find their desks laden with gifts. Increasingly extravagant gifts at that. And really, Wheein had no idea why Hyejin seemed so dissatisfied. She was always polite. Always expressed her gratitude. What else did she want?

 

Wheein didn’t understand Hyejin.

 

Needless to say, it was quite the shock for Wheein when Hyejin suddenly shot out of her desk one afternoon, climbed on top of her desk, and declared her love for Wheein. Right in the middle of a lesson.

 

As for Hyejin, it was quite the shock when all she got from her confession was a wide-eyed stare, dead silence, and an angry teacher. It didn’t make sense—she had done her research and had picked the most straightforward and romantic method she could think of. Perhaps she needed music. Flowers? Perhaps she wasn’t clear enough. No, “I love you, Jung Wheein. You’re mine from now on,” is pretty clear.

 

Perhaps she could’ve specified what kind of love? As far as Hyejin knew, it was just the kind of love where they could hold hands and kiss and get married. It wasn’t too much to ask, right? They could think about children when they grew up.

 

Then there was detention! This was a first, and a rather difficult situation to explain to her mother. Fortunately, her mother was in Dubai with her stepfather—ew—so she didn’t have to know. Sure, Hyejin was disappointed, but the tea and cookies they served in detention was tasty, and the time alone—or practically alone since there was only a sleepy delinquent keeping her company—with in the classroom gave her time to think.

 

Hyejin couldn’t give up yet.

 

She’d taken out a sheet of paper and had begun drafting a web of ideas for her next plan, but she didn’t get very far when the classroom door slid open.

 

“Hyejin.”

 

Wheein.

 

Hyejin’s head snapped up to meet the shy gaze of the normally charismatic girl of her daydreams. Her flushed pink cheeks were adorable, and if not for the heavy atmosphere in the room, she would’ve told her so. She stood instead and pushed past the dessert cart to the door, where Wheein hung about, uncomfortably playing with the hem of her sweater vest.

 

“Hello,” Hyejin said with a grin. “Did you miss me?”

 

“I...I came because...I...there’s something I want to know,” Wheein said slowly.

 

Hyejin, resting a hand on the doorframe behind Wheein, leaned closer. She tapped a finger on Wheein’s chin. “Anything for you.”

 

Wheein shirked back almost imperceptibly, just enough to yield a flicker of hurt across Hyejin’s expression. “Don’t do that,” she whispered, turning her gaze to the sleeping boy across the room. “I’ll forget what I want to say.”

 

Hyejin stepped back and crossed her arms. “Fine.”

 

“I’m sorry, I’m just...I just...I want to know what you meant in the classroom today.”

 

Hyejin quirked a brow. “You want me to explain ‘I love you and you’re mine’?”

 

Wheein blushed furiously. “How do you say things like that so easily?”

 

“Because I love you?” she said, her confused wrinkle of the nose a reflection of her younger self. Wheein recalled the exact expression when she had refused to take her hand, and almost laughed. “How else am I supposed to say it?”

 

“Okay, but love comes in many different forms. There’s friendship—”

 

In a split second, Hyejin slammed her hand against the doorframe once more, and leaned in several breaths too close, and said, “Cut the crap—it’s the kind of love where we make out and touch each other’s butts and stuff. Obviously.”

 

Wheein touched her elbow, and looked her firmly in the eyes. “Okay,” she said. There was something in her tone, a secret perhaps—a truth only she seemed to know. But Hyejin barely had a moment to to be annoyed when she felt Wheein’s soft lips on her cheek, and her heart rattling inside her chest.

 

When Wheein stepped back, she wore the most beautiful smile and the most adorably shy expression. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “We can touch each other’s butts when we’re a little older. I’ll...be yours though. And you’ll be mine, okay?”

 

Hyejin grinned, her entire face scrunching with unparalleled joy. “I like the sound of that.”

 

The two of them were inseparable after that, and it was a union no one was surprised about. They still had their admirers—if the mountain of chocolates on Hyejin’s desk on Valentine’s Day were any indication—but it would be ridiculous to even think about coming between them. At least, it was in middle school.

 

Hyejin, on her part, never quite developed a capacity to share, even when they started touching butts earlier than either of them had planned. By the time high school came around and they had graduated to the high school wing of Saint Francis, everyone knew what they meant to each other. But as they grew more and more beautiful over the years, Hyejin grew more and more protective. After her confession, she’d quickly learned that the kisses and touches she’d given away freely in middle school had a heavy weight to them, and the more people coveted what she had, the more she needed to lock them up for herself.

 

It wasn’t that she ever doubted Wheein’s feelings—she was confident that no one loved Wheein more than she did. It simply became more obvious that more and more people began vying for Wheein’s attention in different ways. And Wheein, ever her cheerful, helpful self, never took a moment to doubt their less-than-pure intentions.

 

It was irrational, she knew. Wheein had always been far more intelligent than she knew how to give her credit for; she simply couldn’t shake the feeling that her kindness was a weakness. Someday, somewhere, someone was going to take advantage of her beautiful smile and glowing heart. It hadn’t happened yet, but she knew it will. Wheein was hers, and no one else’s.

 

And since she could not protect her teddy bear, she was going to protect this precious, precious girl.

 

Wheein knew Hyejin was irrationally protective. She knew that Hyejin’s love all those years ago, would come with the additional weight of having to teach her, to explore with her, how to love. Besides, how could she fault Hyejin for her irrationality, her way of loving, when she spent these years harbouring her own irrationality—all these years, and Wheein continued to hide the truth of their first meeting, for fear of dredging up a part of their relationship Hyejin didn’t need to know. It was ridiculous, she knew.

 

Sometimes it was easy to forget that love had to go both ways.

 

But by the time their full-ride scholarship to Archangel University came through, something began pressing onto their love, like a parasite clinging between them, ready to pull them apart at any moment. It was the little things, perhaps, building up to bigger and weightier pressures.

 

Hyejin needed Wheein.

 

Wheein needed room to breathe.

 

Hyejin didn’t need anyone else.

 

Wheein didn’t think Hyejin knew what she needed.

 

Hyejin needed Wheein to know how much she loved her.

 

Wheein needed Hyejin to know how much she loved her in spite of everything.

 

Hyejin didn’t want that stupid werewolf around. The stupid werewolf, the rabbit, the succubus, and even the siren who didn’t know how to smile. All of these new people—she wanted them to leave their love alone.

 

Wheein liked that stupid werewolf and her awkward ways. She liked the rabbit, the succubus, and even the siren who didn’t know how to smile. All of these new people—she wanted them to stay and help their love grow.

 

Perhaps it was a bit of miraculous coincidence when Seulgi invited Wheein to the library one day to talk to Byulyi, and nothing less of an intervention when Wheein volunteered/threatened Hyejin to go in her stead. She had known by then that Hyejin—who shared several classes with Byulyi—was on friendly enough terms to stand beside her in icy silence. It was a feat she didn’t even extend to Seungwan—who spent way too much time around Wheein and not dating an attractive siren who was clearly into her—so if anyone were to be Hyejin’s new friend, it was going to be this awkward werewolf.

 

When Hyejin got back to the dorm from the library that day, she was still thinking of what Byulyi had said.

 

“Wheeinssi really loves you.” That’s what Byulyi said. And it was true. It was obvious. She knew that. Right?

 

Wheein was cleaning the kitchen counter in the common room. Knowing how Hyejin was, she had kicked Seungwan out with half the batch of cookies they’d made together. A few students lingered—their chatter immediately quieting to a hushed whisper when Hyejin strode into the room.

 

She marched right to the counter, stretched both hands across it to clamp down Wheein’s, and stared her straight in the eye—the same unwavering stare Wheein never tired of seeing. Even now, her heart couldn’t help but jump.

 

“Wheein-ah,” Hyejin said, declaring her name like it was the only thing that mattered.

 

“W-what? You’re scaring me, Hyejinie.”

 

“I love you.”

 

Wheein blinked. “I know. I love you too.”

 

“More than anything.”

 

“Yes...more than you love touching my butt, I know,” Wheein said with a laugh. “Are you feeling alright?”

 

Hyejin glanced down at the flour-smattered countertop. “I just...wanted you to know.” She released Wheein’s hands, and sheepishly scratched the back of her neck.

 

Wheein quirked a brow. “Okay,” she said as she picked up a rag and wiped down the counter. Hyejin watched her work in silence, just watching and admiring her love under the dim yellow light.

 

When Wheein turned to the pile of dishes in the sink, Hyejin walked around, wrapped her arms around Wheein’s waist and hooked her chin on her shoulder, embracing her from behind while Wheein washed the dishes. Wheein smiled when Hyejin snuggled deeper. “So, did you have fun with Byulyi-unnie?” She asked gently.

 

“Yeah,” Hyejin mumbled.

 

“What did you talk about?”

 

“Mm not much. Just that she’s ridiculously bad with girls and that she’s in love with her vampire roommate like some bad romance novel. She’s so thirsty, it’s actually kind of funny.”

 

“Told you she wasn’t into me,” Wheein said with a little smirk.

 

“Yeah.”

 

Wheein, who had been expecting the usual defensive retort, was unprepared for the quiet resignation. So, she wiped her hands on her apron and turned around in Hyejin’s embrace. With her back against the sink, she had just enough space to reach up and cup her cheek. Hyejin’s ears perked up at the slight touch. “Listen,” Wheein said softly, “I know it’s not always easy. I’ve loved you for so long, and there are parts of our relationship that I wish…”

 

“Were easier,” Hyejin mumbled. She leaned into Wheein’s touch. “I know. I know I’m difficult.”

 

Wheein shook her head. “It’s not you, Hyejinie. You’ve always tried your best. It’s us. I wish there were parts of our relationship that I can just kiss and make better, but, ah, I love you so much, Hyejin. You know that, right?”

 

Hyejin sighed. Wheein kissed it away, and smiled. Seeing the unease still lingering on Hyejin’s expression, however, Wheein bit her lip. Something told her it was time; the moment she had been turning over and over in her head since the earliest days of their relationship. Now or never. “There’s something...I’ve been wanting to tell you for a long time.”

 

“Do you want to go somewhere without an audience?” She said, pointing discreetly at the other students pretending to shuffle their papers and peer deeply into their textbooks.

 

Wheein rolled her eyes. “Why do you always attract admirers with your mysterious, sexy ways? People should know what a one-dimensional puppy you really are.”

 

“Hey!” Hyejin laughed. “Don’t ruin my rep just because you’re a little bit special.”

 

Wheein smiled, and wrapped her fingers around Hyejin’s. “Let’s go, you dork.”

 

Back in their room, Wheein quickly ushered Hyejin inside and sat her down on their shared bed—before she lost her courage.

 

“What is it, Wheeinie? You look a little pale.”

 

Wheein shook her head. “Just listen, okay?”

 

Hyejin nodded.

 

Wheein took a deep breath. “The truth is, I’ve...loved you longer than you think. And I’ve always known we would have these differences. You’ve tried so hard all these years, but there are some things that...haven’t changed, and I don’t know why I’ve kept it a secret from you. I just didn’t know how to say it because I’ve always felt like it was my fault, and I didn’t want you to think of me differently. And I don’t even know why I’m telling you now—the way you looked at me earlier—I just...you have the right to know.”

 

Hyejin rushed forward to take Wheein’s white-knuckled hand in her own. “Woah, slow down,” she said softly. “Breathe, Wheeinie. I’m not going anywhere.” She pulled her toward the bed, and sat at the edge beside her. Wheein, her mixed up feelings all threatening to bubble forward into tears, took another breath, her eyes glittering up at Hyejin gratefully. “Start from the beginning,” Hyejin urged.

 

“The beginning,” Wheein laughed. “I don’t think you remember, but we’ve met before. Way before middle school.” Hyejin quirked a brow, but patiently waited for Wheein to continue. “My parents live near Jeonju, on Martyr Mountain. That’s where I grew up, actually. I’m sorry...I don’t know why I found it so hard to tell you. I guess I didn’t really want you to know who I was.”

 

This time Hyejin couldn’t hold it in: “Wait, I know that name. My...mom and I...used to live there. When I was young.”

 

Wheein nodded. “You know when I said that there are some parts of you that has never changed? Mm, you might’ve forgotten, but the first thing you ever said to me was ‘you’re mine.’ Just like you did in middle school.” Wheein smiled at the memory, but Hyejin wasn’t laughing.

 

She knew that moment well. It was a still picture emblazoned onto the back of her mind—her teddy bear and her darling smile and earnest eyes. And the little round ears. It couldn’t be.

 

Could it?

 

“I thought you were really interesting,” Wheein continued. “I think even back then, I was already a little bit in love with you. Then you got me a bouquet of lollipops. You might not re—”

 

“I do. Wheein, I remember everything,” Hyejin said, covering Wheein’s hand on her knee with her own. “I...I’ve never forgotten. I wish I knew. I called you my teddy bear all these years, you know. I can’t believe you’re the same person. I guess it should’ve been obvious, but...wow.”

 

“Your teddy bear?”

 

“Yeah, you had those adorable ears. My god, I was so in love with you. And now that I know, I’m even more in love with you—is that even possible?”

 

“You...didn’t blame me for what happened?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“The lollipops. If I didn’t give them away...we...maybe we could’ve grown up together. That’s what everyone said. I mean I…I always thought about what it would’ve been like if I had just accepted your gift, you know? Like maybe we could’ve grown up together.”

 

Hyejin wrapped an arm around Wheein, and pulled her in for a kiss on the temple. “That was a hundred percent my crazy mother. I mean I’ve...thought about it before. Before I met you, especially, I often wished I could go back to my teddy bear. I don’t think it’d be the same though. We would’ve been different people, and I... god, I would’ve been incorrigible.”

 

Wheein laughed. “You were a lot of things, but never incorrigible. I really...I know how hard you try, Hyejinie. I just...wish you’d give yourself a chance too. Tonight with Byulyi, it wasn’t too bad right?”

 

Hyejin shook her head.

 

“Good. Tomorrow, Seungwan invited Byulyi and I to a seminar. It’s on transformation, so I know it’ll be kind of boring to you. I’d like to go with them...on my own.” Hyejin flinched; Wheein continued, “but only if you’re okay with it. Do you think you can give it a try?”

 

Hyejin frowned.

 

“It’s only for two hours. Seulgi will be free. Do you want to try hanging out with Seulgi?”

 

Hyejin sighed. “One thing at a time, my teddy bear.”

 

“I like that,” Wheein said with a wide grin.

 

“Good,” Hyejin said, planting a quick kiss on her lips. “I can’t even tell you how happy I am that the two greatest loves of my life are one person. Never doubt how much I loved you when we were seven. I remember everything. And...well, because I love you, I’m going to try even more, okay? You deserve much better.”

 

“Don’t say that, Hyejinie.”

 

“You do! You know I’m not good with this stuff. It frustrates me that there are so many things I don’t understand about…people, I guess. All these irrational thoughts drive me crazy, and I don’t know where it comes from, but…I’ll be okay.”

 

“Yes,” Wheein kissed her. “It’s okay. We all have our own irrational thoughts sometimes. And I get it. I do see how much you love me. Now it’s your turn to see how much I love you.”  

 

“I love you. Why are you so perfect, Wheeinie?” she cried, pulling her in by the waist, and squeezing their cheeks together. “I’ll try harder for you, okay? I promise. You should go tomorrow. I’ll stay home and catch up on some sleep.”

 

“Thank you, Hyejinie,” Wheein mumbled into Hyejin’s hair.  

 

Hyejin smiled and nestled her head in the crook of Wheein’s neck.

 

“Thank you for giving me so many chances.”


	8. The Curse

Seulgi has always been different—felt different.

 

She’d never considered herself spectacularly beautiful, having grown up alongside classical beauties like Seungwan and Joohyun, but she could not deny the way people seemed drawn to her in spite of any image she had of her own imperfections. Seulgi liked to smile, and she liked making other people smile. She told herself that was enough.

 

Perhaps no one was more surprised than her when her powers awakened in middle school, but it made a lot of sense—to the young, insecure Seulgi—that her charisma had a supernatural explanation.

 

Still, she was different.

 

The fact that she was a succubus was the greatest joke in the history of the universe. Seulgi—who was as plain as anyone else, who faked crushes on the nicest boys to fit in—a succubus! At first, it certainly seemed like a joke. She didn’t understand why people, boys and girls alike, seemed desperate to kiss her. All she knew was how much she hated to disappoint, how ‘no’ was always too shy to leave her lips, and how thankful she was to have Seungwan by her side to bat off her admirers with a firm look and, in desperate times, a strong shove.

 

But sweet, valiant Seungwan could never fully comprehend how uncomfortable these attentions were at first, could never fully see—short-sighted as she was when Joohyun waltzed in—how these shortcomings made her feel. How could she know that every time she shoved someone away, a part of Seulgi wanted the person to stay, in spite of the discomfort, to maybe someday convince herself she could enjoy it. Everyone else seemed to.

 

Love, affection, sex, and romance: these were good things. Everyone desired this. Why were these things so damn uncomfortable?

 

It wasn’t until Seungwan left, leaving her with a confession and a newfound interest in watching Joohyun’s face whenever they spoke of their friend, that Seulgi began to accept that she would never learn to enjoy the romance and the attention and the burgeoning beginnings, confusing middles, and messy ends of sexuality. She was different, faulty maybe, but she could not be any other way. And that had to be okay.

 

She learned to be okay with it. Over the years, she parsed out the pieces in her head. She liked love, and she liked affection; she loved her friends, and she liked it when they showed it. She liked Seungwan’s hugs, and she liked it when Joohyun pat her on the head. She didn’t really like kisses, and anything more is definitely out of the question. She was nonetheless fascinated by the idea of romantic love. She was especially fascinated by the line between romantic and platonic, and the weight hidden behind romance.

 

While she stumbled through high school, studying Joohyun’s wistful sighs and Seungwan’s ambiguous messages, it became more and more apparent that she would never begin to comprehend the depth of her friends’ feelings for each other. The lines were so blurry, yet so heavy. She didn’t understand it. She didn’t understand why they were hurting each other, even when they were so important to each other. She didn’t understand how to make it better.

 

But she wanted to make it better.

 

If only good intentions were enough.

 

She’d done a pretty shitty job overall, she thought sullenly as she trudged up the white rocky trail. It was years of pushing and pulling, pleading and pretending; the same broken record, razors on their nerves, wore them all down to thin smiles whenever the static overwhelmed them. Admittedly, Seungwan and Joohyun were good at pretending—at least, it was enough to fool each other—but Seulgi was tired.

 

She wanted more than anything for her friends to be happy, but she was so damn _tired._

 

With Byulyi, she didn’t feel so helpless. Not yet.

 

Her sneakers scuffed the white pebbles, and she watched as they rolled off the side of the pathway and into the shades of green below. The open sky was hot on the back of her neck, but she walked on, lost in thought, until she levelled out onto a white plateau. The greenery condensed into grasses, shrubs, and ferns around a shallow rainwater marsh, and on the far side, where the water deepened just enough, she squinted against the sun to see the silhouette of a lonely figure standing at the edge of the water.

 

There she was. Just as somber as she saw her last. 

 

“Seulgi?”

 

Seulgi waved, then lifted the white plastic bag by her side. As she neared, Byulyi smiled lightly. “I’m getting predictable, aren’t I?” Byulyi said, shoving her hands into her pockets.

 

Seulgi shrugged. “There are only so many places you can go on this island. I brought lunch.”

 

They sat on a dry rock by the marsh, overlooking the rolling clouds swimming in the still water.

 

“Kimbap again?” Byulyi said, rummaging through the plastic bag in her lap.

 

“Don’t complain,” Seulgi nudged with a pout, “I’m the one who has to chase you across campus because you’re too busy sulking to remember to eat.”

 

“I’m not sulking,” Byulyi insisted through a mouthful of rice. “I just like the little horses here.”

 

As if on cue, a small herd of short-legged white ponies approached the marsh and dipped their heads down for a drink. White wings folded neatly against their sides, with the exception of an young colt, who splashed into the shallow waters with a happy whinny, the beginnings of his white wings flapping in excitement.

 

“See?” Byulyi said, pointing her kimbap at the family of pegasus, “They’re so happy. Makes me happy too.”

 

“Yongsun-unnie asked me about you today.”

 

Seulgi didn’t miss the way her friend’s eyes shifted. It was the same look she had seen many, many times on both Seungwan and Joohyun. It’s fear, perhaps, or hope. Maybe even both. Either way, she’d decided long ago that she didn’t envy those tangled in the over complications of romance.

 

“Yeah?”

 

Seulgi fingered the plastic wrapper of her lunch. “Yeah. She wanted me to tell you she’s sorry.”

 

Byulyi scoffed, so quietly that only the slight rise and fall of her shoulders gave her away. “I already knew that.”

 

“Unnie,” Seulgi said slowly, “I don’t mean to pry, but I think you should talk to her. It’s been a week, and I think even Hyperion is getting worried about you—I saw him spinning around and stamping his hooves when you ignored him again today. Ah, maybe he’s more angry than worried, but still.”

 

Byulyi kept her eyes on the young colt splashing around while his family watched on.

 

“I know,” she confessed quietly. “I know it’s kind of stupid and stubborn to run away like this, but I guess I don’t...I don’t know what to say.”

 

Seulgi, taken aback by the confession, was used to the drawn out babying of her childhood friends, and listened closely now with renewed hope and vigor.

 

Byulyi went on, more to herself than anyone else. “I left myself open. It was crazy...how much I like her. I’ve been thinking about it all week, and I still can’t believe it happened, but it...It was stupid of me. Anyway, I don’t want to go into it again. It happened, and it hurt. I guess...I just need some time. I need to get over it. Over her.”

 

Seulgi nodded, and bit her tongue—it wasn’t her place to speak. Right? “Listen—“

 

But Byulyi continued, ignoring the pleading lilt in Seulgi’s voice. “I’ll be okay, Seul. Things...things will make sense eventually. That’s what I’ve been telling myself ever since I became a werewolf. I guess I just need time to make sense of everything,” she rambled on, “it’s a lot. Even without Yongsun...there’s so much to think about. This crazy island, my crazy classes, everything is so...crazy.”

 

“You know, unnie, I really love it here. ArchIsland is a very special place,” Seulgi said suddenly. A cool breeze picked up the long strands of her hair, exposing her wistful faraway eyes to Byulyi, who said nothing as she studied her friend’s profile. “It’s like paradise for people like us, y’know? It’s the one place on earth where we don’t have to feel like freaks, and we don’t have to pretend like we are anybody else.”

 

Byulyi nodded.

 

“Sometimes I don’t think anybody will ever love me—ah, before you say anything, just hear me out, okay? I think a lot of us felt the same before coming here. Even though I grew up with Wan and Joohyun-unnie, I’ve always felt that maybe...they don’t think anybody will ever love them. Like maybe they don’t deserve to be loved,” Seulgi confessed. “I’ve tried for a long time now to make them see that they really love each other. Like...in a way that I’m...not capable of loving. Kind of makes me the real freak, doesn’t it?”

 

“Seul—”

 

“No, it’s okay, unnie. Sorry, I’m kind of rambling, but the point is, I think, that the world is hard enough on us...without beating ourselves up too, you know? We all have our own burdens.” She grinned, a light-hearted grin that didn’t quite meet her eyes. “Does that make sense, unnie?”

 

“Yeah,” Byulyi mumbled. She sighed, and stretched her arms. “I’ll talk to Yongsun. And you’re not a freak, Seul. Don’t ever think that.”

 

Just then, the family of pegasus took off into the air and flew high up above them, cutting through the clouds until they disappeared among them.

 

In the following days, Byulyi gathered up her courage little by little. A practiced smile here, and a few words of encouragement there—she was almost ready to face her without crumbling. A few chance encounters had left her running to the pegasus’ plateau, then dragged back to campus by a sympathetic Seulgi or a thoroughly annoyed Hyejin at the whim of Wheein, but she was getting there. She was almost ready. After all, this just couldn't go on. 

 

“I told Wheeinie that you’d rather be a moping loser than solve any problems,” Hyejin said once with an over-dramatic flip of her hair, “but she’s worried about you so you better come with me or I’m sleeping alone tonight. And if I’m sleeping without my teddy bear, I’m tearing out your fucking liver.”

 

Though Hyejin rolled her eyes and made her excuses, Byulyi could tell that everyone was worried. So she gave herself a deadline, and vowed to get over it—her—just enough to have the much-needed conversation.

 

Unfortunately, the opportunity came sooner than she had planned.

 

Three days before her personal deadline, she was on her way back to the dorm from class when a great gust of wind descended upon her from behind, and knocked her off her feet and onto her face. Colours swam before her eyes, and the thrum of voices around her dulled to a low buzz in the seconds she was on the ground. Then, faster than she could process what was happening, she was roughly pulled up by the collar of her jacket and onto her feet.

 

“We have to talk.”

 

Byulyi clapped a hand over her eyes to steady herself, then looked on to see an inscrutable Joohyun staring blankly back.

 

“Let’s go,” Joohyun said. She spun on her heels, so quickly that her fawn-coloured feathers whipped across Byulyi’s face. Byulyi blinked, rubbing her cheek. Unable to process anything that was happening, she simply did what she was told and staggered after Joohyun.

 

Byulyi found herself in a small room, tucked away in a seldom-visited part of the library. There were two desks pushed together beside the frosted window. Her mind flickered to the rumours surrounding Joohyun, and what she had seen and heard with her own eyes—how many girls had she taken into this room before? She cringed a little at the thought--she had seen and heard Joohyun in the throes of passion far too many times. She glanced up at Joohyun, who was sitting patiently by a glowing Database, watching her with no small amount of disdain. Byulyi cringed internally—sexual escapades aside, this was also the perfect setting for murder.

 

“How long are you going to stand there?”

 

Byulyi swallowed, bowed, and fumbled into her seat, then flinched back when she accidentally squeezed her finger between the chair and the wall. She shook her hand and gave Joohyun an apologetic smile, but Joohyun remained inscrutable.

 

“I'll get straight to the point. There is something about Yongsun I think you should know.”

 

Byulyi sat up a little straighter.

 

“I know you probably haven’t done a lot of research. For a wolf without a pack, you certainly seem happy and content to exist in ignorance. But since Yongsun won’t tell you herself, I’ve taken upon myself to do so.” Joohyun laced her fingers together, looking as beautiful and intimidating as ever.

 

Not trusting herself to speak, Byulyi nodded.

 

“I’ll start at the beginning to make things...easier...for you to understand—with a story.”

 

“A story?” Byulyi echoed.

 

Joohyun narrowed her eyes. “Please don’t speak.”

 

Byulyi’s ears flattened.

 

“Once upon a time, back when humans existed in harmony with the supernatural,” Joohyun began, her eyes piercing--almost accusing--as she spoke, “a family’s house burns down, so the family—a vampire, his wife, and his daughter—goes to live in a temple while their house is rebuilt. At the temple, the daughter meets a handsome young acolyte. They fall in love immediately. Little did they know, it was a curse.

 

Another priest, who recognizes the curse, tells the daughter to break it immediately by sprinkling crushed garlic on her eyelids, but the daughter was too in love with the acolyte. As the days pass, the priest’s warnings become more and more urgent, but the daughter doesn’t listen. She and the acolyte pledge themselves to each other for eternities, even though they both knew their house would be rebuilt and they would have to part. Still, the curse made them believe they were strong enough to overcome anything.

 

On the day before the vampires had to leave, they promised to meet again soon. Maybe even elope.

 

But, that night, the priest sneaks into the acolyte’s room and sprinkles crushed garlic on his eyelids while he’s sleeping. He wakes up, and the curse is gone, so he grows up and becomes the priest he is destined to be.

 

Meanwhile, the daughter never hears from her love again, and starts going a little crazy. Determined to see him again, she burns down her family’s new house. But at the time, arson is a huge crime, and she is arrested. As her punishment, they burn her at stake, and she dies. The end.”

 

Joohyun concluded her story with a small, self-satisfied smile at the sight of Byulyi’s stunned expression.

 

“Do you understand now?”

 

Byulyi shook her head.

 

Joohyun sighed, and gestured to the crystal ball, where a painted portrait of a family posed stiffly. The three people, a man, his wife, and a young daughter, were pale, with red eyes that seemed to capture Byulyi’s soul. The pieces reluctantly began to fit, but Byulyi simply looked blankly into the crystal ball.

 

“Are you actually an idiot?” Joohyun mumbled. Byulyi met her eyes once more and saw the frustration on her face. “Look, it’s a very common story in vampire culture, and there has been millions of retellings across the globe, but the ending is always the same.”

 

Byulyi nodded slowly.

 

“The point is,” Joohyun said, “it’s not just a story. It’s a real. It happened. It’s been happening, and it's _still_  happening over and over again. The curse is real, and you _need_ to break it.”

 

Joohyun pinned her down with a pointed look, allowing silence to settle for a moment. She crossed her arms and swung a leg over the other, waiting. Finally, as steadily as possible, Byulyi cautiously articulated her reply: “You want me to crush garlic into my eyes?”

 

“Eyelids,” Joohyun said with a roll of her eyes. “There’s a big difference.”

 

“R-right. But do you...really think the curse killed the daughter?”

 

Joohyun’s smile was less than friendly. “What do you mean?” she asked.

 

“W-well I just mean…maybe it’s not…the curse?” Byulyi continued quickly. “I-if the acolyte hadn’t broken the curse, then maybe the could be happy? I-I mean m-maybe the moral of the story isn’t that love is a curse, but that…people should be free? To love each other, I mean. I don’t know.”

 

Joohyun shook her head, her lips pressed together as if she knew something Byulyi didn’t. “Don’t be naïve,” she whispered.

 

“What?”

 

“You’re misconstruing this curse with love,” Joohyun said, resting her chin on her hand. With a sigh she added, “Though one could argue that love itself is the cruelest curse of all. There is little difference between the two, isn’t there? I’m sure even you have heard enough stories to agree.”

 

Byulyi, chewed on her bottom lip. “How can you say that?” she blurted. “Aren’t you in love?”

 

The glare she received sent cold, hard shivers down her spine. “Don’t pretend you know anything about me,” Joohyun said simply. Byulyi didn’t miss the white knuckles poking out from underneath her lilac sweater, and despite all the questions she had, she was not about to risk her life to ask them.

 

“Since you seem to be an idiot, I’ll try to be even clearer,” Joohyun continued calmly, “I love Yongsun. She is my best friend, and I won’t let your delusions condemn her with the curse. So, if you’ll forgive me for my honesty, I honestly don’t give a shit about you and what you think, and you will break the curse.”

 

Something prickled in Byulyi’s chest—a sharp and familiar pang. Jealousy? Maybe at first, but there was something else boiling beneath: anger. Her thoughts raced, two questions coming to surface amidst the chaos of others: why were they even here? And what gave her the _right_? For that moment, as anger stamped away the fear, Joohyun was just a girl—a bully like so many Byulyi has encountered in her previous life.

 

Her heart raced. She closed her eyes to calm her thoughts, then took a deep breath. “Does she know?” She asked.

 

“Of course,” Joohyun replied with a wave of her hand. “She is well-versed in the history of her lineage, obviously.”

 

Byulyi crossed her arms. “Not about the curse. Does she know you’re here? That you’re doing this?”

 

Joohyun narrowed her eyes, and said nothing.

 

“It’s true that I don’t understand why any of this is happening,” Byulyi said, uncrossing her arms and dropping her hands into her lap, “but if it really is a curse, then I’d rather hear it from Yongsunssi herself.”

 

Joohyun scoffed. “You really are an idiot. At least you’re optimistic...for what it’s worth. What makes you think she wouldn’t tell you to do the same?” Though her features remained impassive, there was a softness to her question that betrayed her genuine curiosity. Surely, Byulyi thought, she wasn’t as cynical as she wanted to appear.

 

“Nothing. I mean, maybe she will. I can’t know for sure, but I guess… At least I can say I tried, and I heard it from her own lips.”

 

Joohyun smiled a little without an ounce of humour. “You don’t believe anything I just told you, do you? You think you’re right. That you have all the answers. You think you _know_.”

 

Byulyi shrugged. “I don’t know what’s real anymore these days. But my feelings...I”—she looked down at her hands in search for the right words—“curse or no curse, I can’t deny that my feelings are very strong. And I can’t deny what I want, but I also… Whatever happens, I’m ready. I just need to hear it from her. I...I know you already don’t like me very much, unnie, but I can’t respect your wish. This attraction might be a curse, but I don’t think love itself is a curse. And I think, no matter what you’ve been telling yourself, you agree with me. Seungwan would agree too.”

 

Joohyun shot up, her great wings splaying open at the name, like a cornered bird in the face of a bigger predator. “Don’t drag Seungwan into this,” she growled. “Especially when you know nothing about love.”

 

Byulyi stood too, her tail puffing out with a burst of adrenaline-fuelled courage, knocking over her chair in the process. “You can lie to anyone you want—to me, to yourself. You can even lie on behalf of someone else, but don’t tell me what I know and don’t know!”

 

Joohyun folded her wings again, and shook her head. “The curse makes you so annoyingly arrogant,” she muttered. “It’s an inorganic, magical-based attraction. Goddammit, if you bothered to do your research—“

 

“I love her.”

 

Byulyi and Joohyun stared at each other in wide-eyed shock. The confession had caught them both off-guard. They processed the three words in silence, it’s magnitude sending an unsettling rumble in the pit of Joohyun’s stomach. But for Byulyi, it was nothing but a wave of relief when the words rushed out from between her lips.

 

“I don’t care,” Byulyi said with a quiet smile. “I love her.”

 

It was cathartic. She could say it a million times in spite of Joohyun’s darkening expression.

 

“You don’t even know her,” Joohyun grinded out. “You don’t know anything about her. What the hell makes your blind and stubborn brain think any of this will go well? This curse—”

 

“I don’t care,” Byulyi repeated, her smile growing wider at the realization. “I don’t. Curse or no curse, this feeling is...it’s real right now. I...It’s real to me. And I think...it’s real to her too. I don’t know.” She chewed her lip for a moment, then glanced up at Joohyun with a renewed sense of purpose. “If she tells me to break the curse, I’ll do it, but for now, I won’t deny my own feelings.”

 

Joohyun said nothing, did nothing, for a long time. She ran a hand across her face. Her dark eyes roamed Byulyi’s face, studying her features as if it were a map. If she were shocked, angry, confused, or even pleased with Byulyi’s passionate declaration, she did not show it. Instead, she simply pressed her lips together, turned on her heel, and marched out of the room.

 

* * *

 

Meanwhile, Seulgi, Seungwan, Wheein, and Hyejin were sitting in a campus cafe, sipping coffees and sharing slices of cake.

 

For these four, it had almost become routine to meet up twice a week to study. They often found themselves at the cafe when somebody—usually Hyejin—is overloaded with enough frustration and hunger to declare a formal break.

 

On this cloudy afternoon, Wheein was feeding Hyejin a slice of chocolate mousse. Hyejin had shaken her head, but a glance at Wheein’s puffed up cheeks, and she relented, taking a small bite. Pleased, Wheein polished off the remainder of the cake on her fork. Hyejin laughed, then kissed her on the cheek, bringing a wide grin to Wheein’s face.

 

“It’s like they’re having their own conversation telepathically,” Seulgi observed with a tilt of her head.

 

“It’s impressive,” Seungwan agreed with a chuckle, “and a bit hard to watch.”

 

Hyejin stuck a tongue out at Seungwan, and brought her coffee cup to her lips, a not-so-secret smile hiding behind the rim.

 

Suddenly, _bang!_

 

A thump rattled the window beside Wheein, who yelped, dropped her fork, and threw herself across Hyejin’s lap, throwing her girlfriend’s hot coffee all over the floor. Hyejin swore, but instinctively wrapped her arms around Wheein, and turned to look at Seulgi, who also sat halfway sprawled across Seungwan’s lap.

 

“Holy shit,” Hyejin mumbled.

 

“What was that?” Wheein asked, peeking out from the crook of Hyejin’s neck. Almost subconsciously, Hyejin lowered her chin, and planted a kiss on Wheein’s forehead, as if to assure her that danger had passed.

 

Seungwan, the only one unfazed by the whole ordeal, stood up to investigate the window. Something red caught her eye.

 

“Yongsun-unnie?” She wondered out loud.

 

The other three crowded around her by the window, and, right on cue, the face-down bat stirred. One little claw stretched forward, then, in a puff of smoke, Yongsun appeared, holding her head and the window for support.

 

“Aish, what is that idiot doing?”

 

“Hyejin! Respect your seniors!”

 

A few disorienting minutes later, Yongsun found her way through the door. Her friends gestured her over and peppered her with questions, but she stayed by the threshold, face as red as her hair. Onlookers watched with interest.

 

“Where’s Joohyun?” She asked. Her voice, strained with suppressed emotion, was barely audible above the din of the cafe.

 

Seungwan stood, concern etched clearly on her face. “What’s wrong?” She asked.

 

“Where’s Joohyun?” Yongsun repeated.

 

“I-I don’t know,” Seungwan said, cautiously approaching. Tentatively, she touched Yongsun’s elbow. “Is...Joohyun alright?”

 

Yongsun ignored her, her eyes as sharp and red as a glowing ember as she scanned the room. Curious onlookers unlucky enough to meet her burning eyes cowered, and shirked away. It was as if her very presence sucked the air out of the room.

 

Then, without another word, she stomped out of the cafe.


	9. The Armchair Scientist and the Conundrum of Love

On the morning of The Library Incident, as she called it, Kim Yongsun was in her private study chamber on the third floor of the Spire. She had visited the chamber every day since the beginning of September, since the fateful meeting at the dock. There was something about the handsome werewolf that day that snagged her attention like nothing had before. Something that snuck into her mind and made its home there, insidiously sneaking into every aspect of her life. It was unsettling and uncomfortable, and whenever they found themselves face-to-face, the _draw_ was undeniable. She’d avert her eyes and hide, but the urge to _touch—_ she didn’t understand. No, she just couldn’t stay in the same room until she understood.

 

On the day of The Library Incident, Yongsun finally understood. After weeks of research, she finally came upon a possible explanation: love. But it couldn’t be love. As much as her head was caught in the trappings of academia, she had watched enough dramas and read enough books to know that it wasn’t love. In all the best literature, love was a gradual development. People in love had _reasons_ to be in love and obstacles to overcome in order to make it true, and even though the werewolf was undeniably beautiful, she knew nothing about her. No, the attraction was far too raw and almost too intuitive to be simply romantic or sexual.

 

Besides, her roommate had been far from subtle from the start that she was feeling the same way. That day on stage, when she blurted her feelings to the whole world, confirmed it for Yongsun. The girl seemed equally baffled when she made the confession. Then again, she often seemed baffled by most things around the Island.

 

It would’ve been easy to give in, she supposed. They could let go and let The Library Incident continue for the rest of their lives, she supposed. If she were anyone else, in fact, she might. Unfortunately, Kim Yongsun never did things the easy way. Kim Yongsun was an academic. She was logical despite her warmth, curious despite her tendency to worry, and perhaps just a bit of a high-strung, perfectionist. Giving into _sensations_ had never exactly been best practice for her success.

 

Research was her safe place. As much as she despised the arbitrary prestige that she and her family were given, she could not resist taking advantage of it just once to have her study chamber built inside the Spire. She granted herself the wood-panelled walls, the warm lights, plush carpet, and the broad-leafed potted plants. Above all, she indulged in the great mahogany desk, the matching bookcase, and even—at the end of her tireless nights—the plush leather couch. Her study smelled of musty books, and that was just the way she liked it.

 

And it was here that she buried herself in research.

 

Beyond the intensity of her feelings, there was something else that bothered her about the whole situation, something familiar about it that she could not pinpoint. She dug through tome after tome, database after database. But even her personal Database, fitted into her desk just for her, provided few answers.

 

Then, finally, on the day of The Library Incident, the answer came to her in the form of a special message from her sister. Yongsun was cloistered in her study chamber when her Database lit up. Her sister’s smiling face inevitably lightened the sombre mood of her recent turmoil, and Yongsun couldn’t help but mirror that smile.

 

It was the typical report of everything that was happening within their extended family tree. Yongsun knew how bored her sister had been since her graduation two years ago, and she secretly delighted in the menial gossip almost as much as her sister secretly delighted in documenting them for her.

 

Yongsun continued to read as her sister went on.

 

Cousin so-and-so was caught cheating.

 

Aunt so-and-so’s son started dating a human.

 

Fitzwilliam the vagabond cousin went full vegan and disappeared to Iceland.

 

Then—

 

“Did you know our Albanian cousin is getting married? I can never pronounce his name,” Her sister had said after a bout of silence. “Umma said he caught the Lover’s Curse, but aunt and uncle doesn’t believe her, obviously. I’m surprised Umma is so superstitious. She’s been going around telling everyone—can you believe it? You know that story, right? About the vampire princess and the priest or whatever. Anyway, it’s a made-up story desired to scare children, so I don’t know what Umma is on about.”

 

Yongsun froze in her armchair. She took off her glasses and rubbed her blurry eyes.

 

“She’s convinced that it’s a curse, because—and I quote—they’re going to make stupid and dangerous decisions and supernatural attractions aren’t real. I told her they’re just lovers being lovers and the curse isn’t real, but when does she ever listen? Anyway, it’s been driving me crazy because it’s literally all she ever talks about these days. I wish she would just be honest if she doesn’t like his fiancé.”

 

The Lover’s Curse—that was the familiar story in the back of her mind. It was one that every vampire knew, yet few still believed. Vampires growing up in the modern era—an era familiar with the virtues of excess—were far too romantic to believe that love could possibly be harmful or dangerous in any way, but it made sense.

 

A supernatural attraction was the only thing that could make sense.

 

She had to tell somebody.

 

As soon as her sister’s message began to wind down, she turned off her Database and raced toward Joohyun’s room.

 

Of course, she never got to Joohyun’s room when she ran into Byulyi in the hallway that day. And it was the Library Incident that told her that the Lover’s Curse could be a very real possibility, even if she couldn’t see how her feelings could be a bad thing. Not at first, anyway. Not while she was so comfortably wrapped up in Byulyi’s presence.

 

But after the library broke apart, and they’d broken free of their little space, Yongsun came face to face with a philosophical conundrum. The kiss they’d shared, and the adoration in Byulyi’s eyes as she looked at her that day with such hope—did it matter if it was the product of supernatural attraction? Did it matter if it wasn’t real?

 

Did she want the feelings to be real? Or was that just the curse talking?

 

She didn’t know anymore.

 

————

 

Two weeks later, on the morning of The Accident, Yongsun was convinced that she had found the answer. She was in her study chamber once again. Joohyun, who slept quietly behind her on the old leather couch, jolted awake when a tower of books clattered to the floor in Yongsun’s excitement.

 

“I got it! I finally get it!”

 

Joohyun groaned and rolled over. “You’re crazy,” she mumbled sleepily.

 

“No, that’s the thing!” Yongsun cried. She crossed the room and shook her friend by the shoulders. “I’m not crazy. I’m cursed!”

 

Joohyun rolled back around and regarded Yongsun with her most displeased expression. “So you’ve said. Many times. This isn’t news. Also, it’s not real.”

 

“It is real,” Yongsun replied, huffing as she pulled the red blanket off Joohyun. “I mean, I wasn’t sure before, but I think it is. It makes so much sense.”

 

Joohyun glared to no effect, so she rubbed her eyes and resigned with a sigh.

 

Yongsun grabbed one of the dusty books she’d dropped in her excitement, threw herself back into her chair, and flipped through the familiar pages. “Listen to this,” she said, “‘The vampire princess fell in love with the acolyte, but she had never known a love so passionate. Concerned, she consulted a wise old priest, who tells her to look for signs of a curse.’ Then they go into a lot of detail about the symptoms. Intense desire, the need to be close, ‘befuddlement of the brain’, et cetera.”

 

“Okay…”

 

“So, I corroborated these symptoms with other versions of similar stories written down between the 15th to 21st centuries, and they’re all more or less the same. Of course, some stories are more detailed than others, so the data isn’t perfect, but I think there is enough evidence out there to say that the Lover’s Curse is real. I think it would be a fair hypothesis to say that the Curse is a product of random chance over the centuries, though I haven’t figured out the hows and whys yet.”

 

Joohyun sat up with a heavy groan. “Yongsun-ah,” she said, crossing her arms, “there are hundreds of versions of ‘The Fairy and the Woodcutter,’ but it doesn’t make it real. It’s just folklore.”

 

“But that’s the thing,” Yongsun said, waving a hand, “even ‘The Fairy and the Woodcutter’ proves my point because the whole tragedy of the Woodcutter losing his wife is because of a stupid decision he made. Symptom of cursed love.”

 

Joohyun pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re being ridiculous! People are idiots. They make stupid decisions all the time. _Especially_ when it comes to love. It doesn’t mean you’re cursed.”

 

“Hyun-ah, why don’t you get it?” Yongsun groaned, frustration building as she jabbed the open page of her book with a finger. “You of all people should understand. If you can curse people with love temporarily, why couldn’t the Lover’s Curse find me by chance? Our very _existence_ defies folklore, so where the hell do you expect to draw the lines between folklore and history and science?”

 

Joohyun was quiet for a while, thoughtful. “Alright then,” she said slowly, “Fine. Have you been showing...symptoms of this curse?”

 

“Oh. Right.” Yongsun bit her lip. “I didn’t tell you what happened at the library.”

 

But of course, meticulous as she was, she didn’t forget. In fact, she had worked out many possible routes their conversation could take—crunched the numbers and ran the cost-benefit analysis of telling her in the first place. Joohyun, however, remained as unpredictable as always. So, she opted her out of the equation until she knew Joohyun would inevitably barge her way in.

 

Now, as Joohyun listened, unmoving, Yongsun secretly wished she planned it out a little better. The siren was inscrutable, and experience told her that was never a good thing. The calmer and stiller—the angrier. And by the end of her narrative, Yongsun almost wanted to hold a finger out to see if she was still breathing.

 

Finally, Joohyun stood up, wings flared. “I’m going to drive a stake into her heart,” she declared icily. Yongsun wanted to crawl under her desk. Murderous rage was not one of the options she had factored into Joohyun’s response, so she simply blinked in a moment of undisguised terror.

 

“That fucking werewolf,” Joohyun went on, “if there’s any curse going on, it’s that damn werewolf. Her very presence in our life is a curse.”

 

“Joohyun!” Yongsun cried, tugging at the wrist of her best friend, “that’s unnecessary! I don’t understand why you’re being hateful.”

 

Joohyun shook her off. “You can’t trust werewolves. And they’re just as capable of cursing someone as I am. By your logic, I could sing to that damn werewolf and end all of your problems right there.”

 

Yongsun felt a chill creep up the back of her neck. She hadn’t thought of that. Having so seldomly encountered any sort of bewitching spells, she knew very little about the effects of overlapping curses.

 

But if Joohyun noticed the paling shades of her friend’s face, she showed no indication of it. Instead, she paced, with her arms across her chest as she continued: “Even if I did, that one’s so thick-headed, she probably wouldn’t hear a damn thing. I’m almost certain that if there’s a curse floating around, she’s responsible for it. Even if that idiot doesn’t know. I mean, haven’t you heard of werewolf glamour?”

 

Yongsun lifted her eyes steadily to meet Joohyun’s, shoving all thoughts away as she raised a brow. “Werewolf glamour? This isn’t 1582, Hyun. And you _know_ werewolf magic isn’t real; it was disproved a hundred years ago. Just because you’re strangely attracted to zoomorphic types, it doesn’t mean they’re magic.”

 

“Don’t drag me into this.” Joohyun narrowed her eyes. “What are you trying to say?”

 

Yongsun took a step back. She’d forgotten how sensitive Joohyun could be when it came to her own love life. “Look,” she said quickly, “I know this sounds hypocritical, but I really think it’s the Curse. And…” she averted her eyes from Joohyun’s fiery glare, “I don’t want to believe it’s not...because I wouldn’t know what to do otherwise.”

 

Joohyun softened. “Fine. I... I understand,” she said. “So how do we break the curse? My songs wear off—for the most part—but something tells me it’s not going to be that simple.”

 

Yongsun bit her lip. “Well, it’s not particularly difficult...you just need some garlic… but breaking it might—”

 

“Let’s do it.”

 

Early in the afternoon of The Accident, Yongsun had left her study chamber to get a snack from the vending machine. As she sipped on her tetra pack of pig’s blood—cringing a little at the flavour and chastising herself for being such a purist, for she knew few vampires were privileged enough to have access to human blood—she was approached by a bespectacled half-heitei she tutored last year.

 

They bowed, and they exchanged their pleasantries, but just as Yongsun was about to excuse herself, the heitei reached out, stopping just centimetres away from her elbow for fear of being impolite.

 

“Wait, unnie, I’m sorry if I’m overstepping,” the heitei said carefully, “but I have to ask. Did something happen with Joohyun-unnie?”

 

Yongsun tilted her head. “Why do you ask?”

 

“Well, I passed by her a little while ago and she seemed really angry. I was going to say hi, but she was pulling this werewolf along.”

 

Yongsun cursed under her breath. “Do you know where she’s going?”

 

“I don’t know,” the heitei said, shaking her head, “she didn’t say anything. You don’t think she’s going to sing to her, do you?” The girl blushed—a light shade of pink that didn’t go unnoticed by Yongsun— then apologized again for stepping out of line. Right, Yongsun thought, one of them.

 

Yongsun smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

 

“No,” she said. “I don’t think so.”

 

When she returned to her room, however, she sat down on her leather couch and thought of Joohyun and her siren song. When she had departed several hours ago, Joohyun had wished her luck in figuring out her conundrum, and it had been peaceful. She didn’t expect her to stew on their conversation.

 

She should’ve known Joohyun wouldn’t let go. For all the flippancy she tried to convey, Joohyun was one of the most fixated people she’d ever met. She rarely let things go, especially if she felt strongly about an idea. She’d brave any sea she set her mind on, even if nobody stood behind her.

 

Yongsun quickly ran through a list of possibilities.

 

First, she could interrogate Byulyi. Force the cure on her and break the curse.

 

Second, she could sing to Byulyi. It was a thought that had crossed her mind multiple times that day, and it seemed more and more plausible. Joohyun could attempt to override the curse with her own curse—It definitely sounded like something she would do. Seduction and musical sorcery had always been her preferred method of solving problems. Besides, neither of them really understood the effects of inflicting multiple curses. Objectively, it would be highly beneficial in the name of science to allow her best friend to conduct this experiment. And as much as Joohyun disliked Byulyi, Joohyun was also loyal. Yongsun trusted her to do what was best for her. Her siren’s song was temporary...if she sang to her…and the curse was broken... It was the perfect solution.

 

Right?

 

But the thought of her best friend and Byulyi together…

 

She could blame the curse, but she did not deny wanting to throw up.

 

Maybe they wouldn’t…

 

Joohyun...fierce and loyal as she was, she also loved a good time. And a handsome werewolf, once she proved no threat to her best friend, sounded like a perfectly good time. Yongsun buried her head in her hands. Joohyun wouldn’t do this. She wouldn’t.

 

She wouldn’t.

 

Would she?

 

She couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t just sit and _think_ while Joohyun did whatever she wanted. She had to find them. _Before_ her emotions and her mind tangle up and completely throw reason out the window—it was her least favourite place to be and yet...she just couldn’t shake the image she’d conjured up of Joohyun and Byulyi together.

 

In the two hours leading up to The Accident, and several emotional dialogues with herself later, Yongsun found herself at wandering the campus, antsy and anxious. As she left the campus cafe, breathless and bewildered at what a fool she’d made of herself when she stormed in and demanded to know Joohyun’s whereabouts, she turned around to receive the crackling of footsteps hurrying toward her.

 

Hyejin, the first to reach her, gently tugged on the back of her blouse. “Unnie, what’s wrong?” She asked. Wheein, Seungwan, and Seulgi soon joined them with evident concern in their eyes.

 

“Did something happen with Joohyun?” Seungwan asked without a thought.

 

Yongsun smiled a little. “I’m just looking for her, that’s all.”

 

“You seemed pretty intense back there,” Hyejin replied with a raised brow. Wheein nodded as she came up behind Hyejin and took her hand. Strange, Yongsun thought absentmindedly. She hadn’t noticed how close they were before. Then again, she had been too obsessed to notice most things around her in the last few months—this she did not deny.

 

“You can tell us, Unnie,” Wheein said shyly. “We may not know each other very well, but we want to help.”

 

“I apologize for my behaviour back there,” Yongsun said with a bow. “I’ve been looking for Joohyun for some time now and I guess I’ve just been frustrated.”

 

“Don’t you miss functional cell phones?” Seulgi quipped.

 

But her comment went unheard when Seungwan suddenly clapped her hands together and cried, “I think I might know where she is!” She paused and pressed a finger to her chin. “Hold on, there might be a couple of possibilities. Joohyun-unnie likes to go to either the pegasus plateau or the cliffside where Athena laid her eggs last spring. Oh! Um, that’s one of the gryphons she befriended last year. Joohyun-unnie helped rehabilitate her wing after some students found her injured.” Seungwan stopped for a moment, an almost wistful expression on her face, then—suddenly feeling a little exposed—sheepishly concluded, “She’s pretty amazing. But you all know that.”

 

“Wow, unnie, you’re _very_ subtle,” Hyejin snickered.

 

Wheein nudged her. “Stop wasting time, Hyejinie. Joohyun-unnie might be in trouble. I think we should split up,” she announced. “Hyejin, Seulgi-unnie, and I will head to the plateau. Seungwan-unnie and Yongsun-unnie: you two will go to the gryphon nest.”

 

Dumbfounded and without a better alternative, they nodded.

 

“I love when you take charge like that,” Hyejin said, leaning closer to her girlfriend’s set lips. But much to the alarm of everyone else, Wheein planted her hand flat into Hyejin’s face and pushed her away. They watched with bated breaths as Hyejin bounded back, shoving Wheein back and immediately dissolving her determined expression into a wide grin.

 

Seungwan touched Yongsun’s shoulder.

 

“Let’s go.”

 

———

 

The cliffside stretched up like a towering shadow against the sky from the bottom of the mountain where Yongsun and Seungwan stood. If they squinted, they could just make out the thick, broken branches of several gryphon nests sprinkled along slabs of jutting rock.

 

“She’s probably up there,” Seungwan said, more so to herself than anyone else.

 

Yongsun regarded her profile. Son Seungwan was beautiful and kind, but as much as Yongsun tried—or believed herself to be trying—they were never close.

 

Joohyun and Seungwan was a conundrum, a philosophical and—Yongsun suspected—supernatural quandary she was tired of trying to solve. Though Yongsun had her theories, she kept her mouth shut; though Seungwan sparkled and smiled, she kept her distance. This seemed to work for the both of them.

 

In fact, this was the first time Yongsun could recall being alone with Seungwan. And she wasn’t oblivious—she knew as well as anyone how those rumours spread. Seungwan seemed clever enough to dispel those rumours, but she seemed set on believing the lie to avoid the truth.

 

A feeling Yongsun understood well.

 

“Are you sure?” Yongsun asked, trailing her gaze from Seungwan’s face to the wall of rock.

 

“Maybe,” Seungwan replied. She tilted her head back to study the daunting wall of rock before her. “Usually when there’s something on her mind, she likes to go to a quiet place by herself. Back in our hometown, we used to go to the duck pond. We didn’t really have gryphons and things, but I know she really likes them. Most creatures, really. They don’t ask too much of her,” she paused to give Yongsun a small smile, “so we used to come here, just the two of us—not recently though.” Her voice trailed off, the end of her statement tacked on with a tinge of sadness. “First year...when we both thought we could be kids again, I guess.”

 

Yongsun nodded.

 

“Anyway! Sorry, I talk too much, don’t I? We should check if she’s up there. I can’t fly, so you’ll have to go without me. I’ll wait here, unnie.”

 

Yongsun took a breath and prepared herself for the wave of nausea that always came with her transformation. She wavered insider her much smaller body, and, for a moment, came close to slamming right against the rockface as she tried to unsuccessfully wield her own wings. Fortunately, Seungwan’s reflexes were just quick enough to catch her and sit her in the safety of her palm before she could get her.

 

Yongsun flapped her wings in gratitude and was more than relieved that her bat form couldn’t express her deep embarrassment.

 

“Athena’s nest is near the middle. She likes to decorate with white flowers, so you can’t miss it. Be careful, unnie,” She said. Then, she raised her arm and lifted Yongsun into the air like a baby bird, watching warily as Yongsun tried to master control over her own winged limbs. She carefully scaled the wall, her vision blurry as she flew up, tipping back and forth as she tried to find her momentum.

 

High and higher, she flew with the pinking sky warm on her back. She gave a number of chirps and was quickly reminded of why she hated echolocation when her brain was unable to parse out the massive input of information, sending her crashing right into something prickly.  
 

“Yongsun?”

 

Sprawled in a tangle of stripped branches, she saw nothing but dark shapes surrounding her little body. Suddenly, a burst of light broke through her blurry vision, and a large pale shape appeared. The shape moved. “Yongsun?” the shape said again. “Are you okay? What are you doing here?” Something warm wrapped itself around her and carried her out into the light.

 

Yongsun wriggled, one arm then the other.

 

Goddammit—she kicked herself for not practicing her transformation when she should’ve. She tried to recall what she had read in those early days of maddening obsession with transformation, but nothing came up. It was like all the times she skipped practice in favour of books and theory was coming back to haunt her. She wiggled her arms again, but to no avail.

 

The warmth—a pair of hands—shifted her onto one palm.

 

Joohyun? Is that you?

 

But all she heard was a series of chirps. Her head was about to burst as her echoes bounced off every surface within miles, but between the warm hands and the vaguely familiar shape and voice of the person holding her, it had to be Joohyun. And despite all the thoughts she had about her friend prior to her ascent up the cliffside as a literal blind bat, she did not deny the relief of finding solid ground in her best friend.

 

Fifteen minutes before The Accident, Yongsun was nestled safely in Joohyun’s hand. Had she been able to see the shape of the narrow cliff where Joohyun was seated—for there was barely any room to stand—and the nest of young gryphons sleeping only centimetres away, she might have been a little more scared. And a little more careful.

 

As of now, Yongsun was safe.

 

Unfortunately, unlike Seungwan and Wheein, Yongsun could not selectively turn herself into a talking bat. She was soft, round, and red, but was otherwise an ordinary, if not subpar, vampire bat. Had she spent her early adulthood practicing and mastering the ability she acquired so late in her life at 19 years old, she may have been able to master the basic functions of flying and sight. She may even have been able to transform at will. But young Yongsun already had her head trapped in theory, and no matter how voraciously she devoured her books on transformation, nothing she read could dispel her fears.

 

And so, she remained a subpar vampire bat who could only shout at her best friend from inside her head. She hoped to channel her disgruntled vibes toward Joohyun as she wiggled again in attempt to transform, but nothing happened. Perhaps it was too soon after her first transformation.

 

“Are you stuck?” Joohyun asked. Yongsun nodded silently. “You’re here because you heard about Byulyi, aren’t you?”

 

Yongsun nodded and crossed her webbed arms in attempt to look displeased.

 

“I didn’t hurt her, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

 

She wasn’t wondering, but she visibly relaxed nonetheless.

 

“You think I would hurt her?” Joohyun asked with a raise of her brow. Her voice was quiet and hurt in a way Yongsun did not expect. She ducked her head a little.

 

“I didn’t hurt her,” she repeated. “I just wanted to tell her about the curse.”

 

Yongsun shook her head visibly in her show of disapproval. It wasn’t her place to tell her! She wanted to scream.

 

“To be honest, I was still convinced that it was some sort of werewolf magic. Sure, historically werewolves were illusionists or whatever, but—I don’t know—I don’t trust everything _you_ read in books. I thought if I told her about the Lover’s Curse she’d expose herself or something.” She chuckled as if she were hiding a secret joke. A joke Yongsun wasn’t finding very funny. “But she’s kind of an idiot when it comes to supernatural culture. She isn’t much better than an average human, if I’m honest.”

 

Yongsun, wanting to defend Byulyi’s intelligence, chirped. Unfortunately, it was not at a frequency that Joohyun could hear, so she went on, leaving Yongsun wanting to headbutt her in the chin.

 

“Don’t move around so much—it’s dangerous up here. Anyway, I gave her the cure too. I wanted to see if she would actually do it, or if she’d even believe me. Humans are so skeptical, you know? She didn’t.” Joohyun looked up then and looked up across the top of the tree line. She didn’t notice Yongsun bouncing in her palm in frustration.

 

How could Joohyun be as arrogant as the priest? What if this were a prophecy doomed to fail? What did Byulyi do? Did she take the cure? Yongsun chirped several more times, but to no avail.

 

“Anyway,” Joohyun said softly after a long pause. “That’s it. We just talked.”

 

But there was something else. Something she wasn’t telling her.

 

Joohyun’s gaze didn’t waver from the treetops. “Yongsun-ah, I don’t know if the Lover’s Curse is real,” she said, resigned, “I know you weren’t sure if you wanted to break it...but I don’t think it _can_ be broken. Not unless _you_ want to break it.”

 

Yongsun stopped wiggling.

 

“Whether it is real or not, it is a very powerful spell. I can’t tell you how I know, but I _can_ tell you that I don’t like it one bit. Of all people, it had to be with that damn werewolf. Whatever it is, we should get to the bottom of it and lift the curse once and for all. I can’t...I can’t let you give into your end of the curse.” Joohyun’s eyes burned. “You can’t be with her. You need to tell her.”

 

Yongsun looked up, but Joohyun didn’t meet her eyes. Her heart pounded. DId she sing to her? Did she sing and fail because the Lover’s Curse was too strong? Is that how she knew?

 

“She won’t believe anything I say,” Joohyun chuckled mirthlessly. “It’s only fair that she knows she’s cursed, Yongsun. You have to tell her.”

 

Approximately one minute before The Accident, Yongsun found herself shaken by the images in her head. She wasn’t sure exactly what incited the incident—between the stream-of-consciousness crap Joohyun was spouting and the mess of questions and the _image_ she kept seeing—she needed to know if Joohyun sang, needed to know why Joohyun was being so ambiguous. Needed to know what Byulyi said.

 

Approximately forty-five seconds before The Accident, Yongsun leapt out of Joohyun’s hands, wanting to get away from it all. She zipped upwards unsteadily, and much to the shock of both parties, crashed—in a blur of white noise—into Joohyun’s forehead, sending her wings open in recoil, and consequently scaring one of the young gryphons awake.

 

Thirty seconds before the moment of The Accident, the young gryphon shot out of her nest and into the small of Joohyun’s back in a powerful headbutt, sending her forward. Fortunately, the momentum of her wings caught the air just in time, but in her effort to maintain her balance, the edge of her wing caught the fumbling Yongsun, knocking her out momentarily and sending her tumbling forward and plummeting straight down like a red tennis ball.

 

Joohyun saw the blur of red out of the corner of her eye, and dove down after her with the speed of a fighter jet—

 

It was in that moment, as she cut through the air, that Yongsun opened her eyes. And it was in that moment of consciousness that the adrenaline kicked in—

 

She flapped her wings. Only to see her long, pale arms swinging wildly around her.

 

Her eyes widened. Joohyun dove toward her, her mouth open, the sounds of her own name buffeted by the wind.

 

She reached out her hand toward Joohyun’s outstretched fingertips.

 

Fifteen seconds before The Accident, Joohyun scooped Yongsun up from under her, and, in trying to create enough drag to slow down from the high-speed fall, she flapped her wings as fast as she could, shaking through the branches and the trees, and spurring the wildlife out of the leaves with the force of a small hurricane. A storm of splintered wood and howling wind blasted through the forest with each adrenaline-fueled blow from her powerful wings.

 

She swooped up to an upright position, narrowly missing a tree with Yongsun in her arms.

 

And the forest stilled.

 

Ten seconds before The Accident, Joohyun closed her eyes. Yongsun had passed out once more in her arms. When she opened them again, she noticed a tree.

 

Five seconds before the impact, the culmination of the event that Yongsun will later categorize as The Accident, Joohyun watched the moments tick by in a series of slow-motion images.

 

Five: several meters away, a tree reclined. Snapped at the base, it leaned back at forty-five degrees.

 

Four: forty degrees. Thirty-five. Thirty.

 

Three: Joohyun heard her own voice scream.

 

“SEUNGWAN, WATCH OUT!”

 

Two: her heart pounded. She rushed forward, Yongsun heavy in her arms. She tightened her grip on her friend and stumbled forward clumsily toward the falling tree. 

 

Seungwan turned around, iridescent in her peacock blue dress.   
 

A cloud of leaves filled Joohyun's vision as the tree came down.

 

One: a crash and a long, hoarse cry, then hot tears as time seemed to speed up and swallow Joohyun up whole.

 

“SEUNGWA-A-A-AN!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Hi all! Apologies for my absence. I've been away on vacation, then dreadfully sick, and THEN I got the news that I'll be moving abroad for a job. So...a lot is happening. I'll be making my updates on Twitter, but unfortunately, I will be posting a little bit slower. I'm hoping to finish this story soon, but I'd like to dedicate some time to Freedom-Bound as well. I know this is a terrible place to leave you, but my life has been an utter whirlwind, you guys. So just stay tuned! 
> 
> Edit: I’ve received several comments expression confusion about this chapter, so I thought I would clear up some things. I really want everyone to enjoy the story, but I know that the way I tell my stories aren’t always the most straightforward. I’ve posted commentary on the previous chapters on Twitter as well @roastyreads if you’re interested! 
> 
> Since I haven’t received any explicit questions as of this edit, I will just make my own assumptions.
> 
> If you’d rather make your own judgements about what happened, just click away :)   
>  
> 
> 1\. This chapter takes place throughout all of the previous chapters from Yongsun’s point of view. The Library Incident refers to the “Earnest Fool” chapter, where Yongsun was trapped in the library with Byul. Yongsun in this story is a highly intellectual person who likes to categorize things, hence the motif of The Library Incident and The Accident. Ultimately, this chapter can't really be read on its own, since it fits into the overarching plot from the beginning until the present. 
> 
> I realized also that since this is the first time you see things from Yongsun's POV, it may be that she no longer fits into the archetypes that Byulyi had established for us in the previous chapters. If you guys know me from my previous stories, my obsession with human characters may not surprise you. Since AIU is the first time I have a whopping FOUR protagonists, it's been a really interesting challenge in keeping their timelines straight and their characterizations true. 
> 
> 2\. Most of this story takes place directly after “The Curse”. Joohyun has just stormed off at the end of that chapter, and here we have an understanding of why Joohyun did what she did. Byul was kept in the library at the end of “The Curse” so it can be assumed that she may have walked back to her dorm. As this chapter was mostly in Yong’s POV, it’s also safe to assume she doesn’t know where Byul is, so the reader won’t know either. 
> 
> 3\. The Lover’s Curse (singular lover is intentional) is entirely a speculation at this point. From Yongsun’s point of view, it makes sense in terms of supernatural folklore, and it keeps her in denial. From Joohyun’s point of view, she doesn’t care, as long as Byulyi doesn’t come along and ruin their friendship. She’s sceptical of the curse but will willingly use it to her advantage if she could split Yong and Byul apart. The importance of the Curse is not whether or not it's real, but how both Joohyun and Yongsun are grappling with their feelings. As Yongsun is a highly intellectual person with a need to categorize things, she doesn't know how to deal with Byulyi's feelings. And because Joohyun is, in reality, rather insecure, especially with her friendships, she isn't going to let Byul take Yong without a fight. After all, Yongsun is her only friend at this point after her messiness with Wan and the betrayal of Seul. 
> 
> Both Joohyun and Yongsun’s characters are developed further in this chapter as the plot moves forward. It’s really the first time we see them together for an extended period of time, so their relationship is a little clearer too, I hope. 
> 
> 4\. At the end, a tree falls on Seungwan from the force of Joohyun’s hurricane. Yongsun calls that moment The Accident, but it’s really a culmination of many accidents. Again, it’s her tendency to categorize things that we are seeing, and despite the Butterfly effect of all these things happening, this was the moment that changed things forever. Even though she’s was passed out at the time, it’s a turning point for all the characters involved.
> 
> 5\. These characters may not sound like the people you know and love because this is a work of fiction. My depictions of these characters are based on traits that I've observed and exaggerated for the purpose of telling a unique story. I believe this should be true of all stories about real people in order to respect their privacy as human beings. 
> 
> Hope that helps!


	10. Finding Peace

After the fiery confrontation in the library, Byulyi’s entire body was vibrating with unexpected emotion.

 

Nothing seemed to make sense, and yet everything seemed to be falling into place. As she stood outside the library with her heart still hammering against her chest, the only thing she truly knew in that moment was that she needed time to think. She didn’t want to run away anymore, but there was so much to process.

 

Without another thought, she began her trek toward the pegasus’ plateau, her thoughts hovering inside her brain like bees, each like angry black dots vying for a designated place within the colony.

 

The curse—fact or fiction, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was being able to share the same reality as Yongsun. A section of the angry black swarm fell into place.

 

The acolyte—why didn’t he return to the vampire princess? If he knew, would he have done nothing? Byulyi didn’t want to do nothing. Another section of thoughts was filed away.

 

The princess—her princess. Yongsun’s face appeared in her mind’s eye and hovered above the rest of her neatly boxed thoughts. What was she to do with all these feelings now?

 

It was all a mess.

 

When she arrived at the pegasus’ plateau, she found a place to lay her head among the tall grass and allowed the breeze to wash over her. Her heartbeat slowed, and the exhaustion began to seep in.

 

Soon, she drifted off to sleep, dreaming of silence and empty space. When she awoke again, she was strangely...calm. As she laid in the grass, on the cusp of awake and dreaming, she thought about Kim Yongsun again. She thought about Joohyun too, and the confession that had risen in the heat of the moment. It was strange—she had been so scared, so anxious about everything...but once the words came and gave her emotions solid shape and form, everything was so easy. Of all the things on Archangel Island, this truth was by far the easiest for her to accept.

 

As she looked up at the fluffy clouds above, she smiled and was truly at peace.

 

And it was in this peace that she thought of Joohyun again—beautiful, strong, and angry, so pained by something to truly be free. Byulyi wondered if she had truly been happy, or had she spent her whole life protecting her loved ones from the bitter evils she ascribed to the world?

 

She thought of Seungwan too, and whether loved Joohyun as intensely as Joohyun did. Perhaps the bigger question was this: how far down did they have to bury their feelings until they were able to sleep with each other without expressing them?

 

She didn’t want those kinds of games. The heartaches and the headache, the push and the pull—she couldn’t subject Yongsun to that.  

 

It was then that she decided she wanted to be more like Hyejin and Wheein—open, honest, and in love. She recalled her conversation with Hyejin: “You’ll always be inferior to the woman of your dreams,” and yes, perhaps she did feel utterly worthless standing beside Yongsun, but she wanted to try. She wanted to be able to stand up straighter and learn to be proud. She wanted to be better, to be worthy of her love, and she hoped that Yongsun would give her the chance.

 

And if this kind of love was a curse, she’d cross out the label and call it a blessing.

 

She laid there with the warm sun shining down, a wide smile on her face. This, she decided, must be freedom.

 

Unfortunately, the peace did not last when a sudden rustling and a buzz of voices jolted her out of her reverie. She propped herself onto her elbows and listened.

 

“If she’s here, you can probably see her from a mile away.”

 

Byuyi’s ear pricked and swivelled toward the voice. Hyejin? Sitting up, she squinted into the distance and saw three figures walking down the path, their voice carried by the wind and the silence of the plateau.

 

“Maybe she’s in the grass.”

 

Wheein? What were they doing here?

 

“As if the Ice Princess would get down and dirty in the grass,” Hyejin scoffed.

 

“She seems like she would—depending on who asks.”

 

“You think she’d be the type to listen to requests? She’s such a boss bitch alpha type.”

 

“Hyejin!”

 

“What? It’s true.”

 

The voices were getting closer.

 

“You could say the same about you though,” Wheein replied.

 

“Jung Wheein, are you saying you want to get down and dirty in the grass with me? That is bold.”

 

A third voice laughed. “You two are too much.”

 

Byulyi sat up straighter. Seulgi!

 

“Wait, what’s that?”

 

From afar, the three silhouetted figures stopped. Someone pointed in her direction.

 

“Who’s there?” Hyejin demanded.

 

Byulyi stood and raised a hand in an awkward wave. “It’s just me,” she called.

 

“Byulyi-unnie?” Wheein asked. They stepped into the grass and waded toward her, then met halfway, under the shade of a squat little tree just off the path.

 

“What are you guys doing here?” Byulyi asked.

 

“We’re looking for Joohyun-unnie,” Seulgi replied. They quickly filled her in on the purpose of their hunt and Yongsun’s frenzied search for her best friend. Though Byulyi could not bring herself to confess what had happened between her and Joohyun, she couldn’t help but wonder if she had anything to do with Yongsun’s behaviour.

 

“So, have you seen Joohyun-unnie?” Wheein asked.

 

Byulyi smiled apologetically. “No, sorry. But I’ll help you look.”

 

Suddenly, their conversation was cut short when the cry of a thousand birds suddenly shot through their eardrums. They saw them at a distance, a cluster of black specks across the sky like a cloud of smoke stemming from the fine arts building.

 

“What the hell was that?” Hyejin mumbled. She instinctively wrapped an arm around Wheein’s shoulder and looked to Byulyi for answers.

 

The cloud of birds resettled after a few long minutes, and the silence blanketed them once more. Byulyi sniffed the air, her ears flickering—nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and yet…

 

“Something is wrong,” she said. The others nodded their agreement.

 

Byulyi began wading through the tall grass, the other girls following soundlessly behind her.

 

They ran toward the noise, but they did not get far when a sudden gust of wind intercepted their journey. Their arms raised instinctively to shield their faces, but the sharp air seemed to cut at their clothes. Byulyi, learning by now to fear every sudden strong gust of wind, edged toward the back of the group, ready to take off at a moment’s notice.

 

But it wasn’t Joohyun this time.

 

A black gryphon soared overhead, then swooped in front of them, digging her powerful claws into the ground and swinging her head up in a long, piercing cry.

 

All four of them could feel their hair stand on end.

 

“Athena,” Byulyi heard Seulgi say to herself.

 

The cry was followed by another, and the ground began to shake. The earth began to tear itself apart—the nearby wildlife quickly fleeing toward safe ground. Byulyi, who had fallen over in the wake of the sudden movement beneath her feet, looked up in shock. Seulgi offered a gloved hand and pulled her up without a word, her eyes, trained on the gryphon, were equally wide. The path between them and the gryphon had rumbled open to reveal a set of stairs.

 

Athena bowed her head and stamped impatiently with a disgruntled whinny.

 

The four girls looked at each other apprehensively, and, when no one made a move, Athena dragged her right hoof across the dirt and drew a cross and an arrow pointing toward the stairs.

 

“A cross?” Hyejin mumbled with a raised brow.

 

“The hospital,” Wheein said incredulously.

 

Athena nodded.

 

First the flock of birds and now the hospital. Byulyi looked over at Seulgi, who appraised the tunnel with an expression she had never seen before.

 

Something was very, very wrong.

 

 

The spiral staircase leading down to the school hospital was a narrow afterthought of masonry, its grey stones uneven and its rails partly rusty and bent from years of neglect. It was just Byulyi and Seulgi now as they raced down the stairs, their footsteps and pounding hearts seeming to heighten the tension in the still air. Hyejin and Wheein had long fallen behind but had encouraged them to go with the wind.

 

“Seulgi,” Byulyi said quietly from three steps behind her friend. The back of her head didn’t say much, though her quiet sniffling pulled at Byulyi’s heart. “It’ll be okay. Joohyun will be okay.” The words sounded empty even to her own ears, but the truth was that neither knew where they were heading and what they would find at the end—she was at a loss. Happy, earnest Seulgi had done everything she could to make her smile, but now...she hated the weight of her own helplessness.

 

Seulgi said nothing.

 

Why was this staircase so damn long?

 

Finally, Seulgi turned her head slightly. “I have a bad feeling too, unnie.”

 

“I mean, a mysterious bird opened up a dark tunnel and told us to go—I don’t blame you,” Byulyi replied with a nervous chuckle in attempt to lighten the mood.

 

“Joohyun...and Seungwan. Something must’ve happened.” She shook her head. “I don’t know how I know, but Athena...gryphons are rarely like that, you know?”

 

“Like what?”

 

Seulgi stopped for a minute and turned to look up at Byulyi. Byulyi, however, had her eyes on the steps and ended up bumping into Seulgi. She blushed and made a haste apology, but Seulgi’s expression was dark. Something was bubbling beneath those glazed eyes, and, not knowing what to say, Byulyi listened.  

 

“Unnie,” Seulgi said, so quietly she had to lean in and swivel both ears forward. “Athena was scared.”

 

A chill up shivered up Byulyi’s spine. She nodded.

 

They continued their trek in silence, twenty-flights allowing them them plenty of time to adjust to the unchanging scenery, the monotony of their swirling thoughts, and the unchanging rhythm of their footsteps.

 

Finally, the staircase dipped into a larger, more cavernous room dug out from the dirt. Their feet hit the dirt and crossed the large empty room. On the far wall beside a heavy-looking iron door, set into the layers of earth, was a square cross with three angel wings on each side. Beneath was the engraving: “Archangel Island University Hospital”.

 

Byulyi and Seulgi looked at each other, then at the door—there were no handles, no knob, no buttons. They examined the bolts and the hinges and the grimy looking surface.

 

Byulyi scratched her head.

 

“Now what?” Seulgi asked with a pout. “I don’t want to go up those stairs again.”

 

“Maybe we should wait for Hyejin and Wheein first.”

 

“I hope they hurry,” Seulgi said, roughly running a hand through her hair, “it’s cold in here.”

 

Byulyi slid her eyes toward Seulgi, who sighed into her hands this time, then pulled at her shirt. Her hands and feet seemed incapable of staying still for even a moment. She had never seen her so anxious and so silent. Her gaze wandered to the staircase—please hurry, she thought. For Seulgi’s sake, Joohyun better be okay.

 

As if on cue, Hyejin appeared into view as she descended the last few steps with a big furry bundle in her arms. “Wheein fell asleep,” she said, slightly out of breath as she approached her friends at the door. “Isn’t she cute?”

 

Byulyi and Seulgi peered over at the lightly snoring tanuki puppy but did not comment. Cute as she was snuggled up against Hyejin’s chest, a more pressing issue was at hand.

 

“We can’t open the door,” Byulyi said. “Do you think Joohyun-unnie is alright?”

 

“She’s tough, unnie, don’t worry. Here, hold Wheein,” Hyejin said, transferring her bundle to Byulyi. Wheein stretched and snuggled into the crook of Byulyi’s arms, surprisingly soft and unsurprisingly heavy as Byulyi gathered her full weight. “Careful. If you drop her, I will rip out your liver. For real. I’ll rip it out and put it in a burger and feed to the birds.”

 

Hyejin strode up to the door and peered closely, investigating each bolt and hinge as her friends had done previously.

 

“Hyejin-ah,” Seulgi sighed, tapping her foot as she nervously eyed the door. “Maybe not the right time?”

 

Hyejin chewed her lip and turned to flashed them a small smile, “Sorry,” she said sheepishly, “I’m just on edge about this whole thing. I mean, have you ever seen a gryphon do this?”

 

Seulgi shook her head. “I thought the same thing. And those birds over by the fine arts building. I’m worried about Seungwan too.” Byulyi and Hyejin nodded in silent agreement. “If I remember correctly...Seungwan had a hand in helping Athena when she was injured. She and Joohyun-unnie used to see her every day for a while. I never went to the fine arts building, so I never had the chance to meet her, but it had to be her.”

 

“If you’re sure, it could be that she’s leading us to Joohyun. And maybe even Seungwan,” Byulyi said slowly, cradling Wheein like a baby. The tanuki kicked the air and gave a little whine, though she remained deep asleep.

 

Seulgi shook her head. “I don’t know for sure. I never got to meet her because she laid her eggs the year before Seungwan and I came to this school, and gryphons have to nest for three years—young gryphons are very difficult to raise and manage and stuff.” She bit her lip. “That gryphon picked us for a reason, unnie.”

 

Byulyi pulled Wheein a little closer. “I really hope they’re okay.”

 

Seulgi tried to smile. “Me too.”

 

Suddenly, Hyejin lifted her chin and scanned the ceiling. “I knew it! Camera.” Seulgi and Byulyi followed her gaze and sure enough, a camera was pointed right at them. “Fox burrow,” she remarked. “Always monitored. They’re clever creatures, but very paranoid. Not sure why they employed foxes to hide a hospital, but if I’m not mistaken…” Hyejin looked up and into the camera. “Anyone there? We need to get in!”

 

Silence.

 

Then, the crackling of speakers.

 

“Hello?” Hyejin tried again.

 

A low, nasally voice drawled: “Ye-e-es?”

 

Hyejin furrowed her brow and tossed her hair. Sensing her own frustrated energy emanating off Hyejin, Seulgi rubbed her shoulder with a gloved hand.

 

“We need to get inside,” Hyejin grinded out. “We’re looking for a friend. It’s urgent.” Seulgi gave her a look. “Please,” Hyejin added.

 

Silence. “Who is we?” the voice said slowly. Byulyi was sure at this point that whoever was behind that microphone must’ve been very ancient, very senile, or very much both.

 

“Mister—”

 

“Excuse me?” the voice bellowed.

 

“Er, Ma’am—we’re students,” Byulyi tried. “And we’re looking for—”

 

“Students?”

 

“Yes. Students. We’re looking for our friend, Bae Joohyun.”

 

The speaker crackled again. “Are you sure that you’re students?”

 

Hyejin rolled her eyes. “Yes, we’re students. We study things. At the university. Where we are. Right now. Can you please let us in? Joohyun could be dead in a ditch by now for all we know.”

 

Wheein stirred in Byulyi’s arms, the sudden movement prompting a wary glance from Hyejin.

 

“Now, how on earth did a bunch of students get into the emergency tunnel?” the voice murmured, more to herself than anyone else. Something shuffled and rustled behind the microphone. “Are you naughty children playing a prank?”

 

Are you fucking kidding me? Hyejin mouthed. Seulgi gave her another sympathetic pat on the shoulder in attempt to calm her down.

 

It was Seulgi who stepped up to the plate this time: “Look, Ma’am,” she said, “we’re looking for our friend. We’re worried that something happened to her.”

 

“Mmhmm.”

 

“So...can you let us in?”

 

“Who are you looking for, again?”

 

“Bae Joohyun,” Seulgi replied.

 

“Mmhmm,” the voice hummed, followed by another bout of shuffling. “Oh shoot, now where are my glasses?” Everyone looked to Hyejin, who was moments away from blowing up. “Ah, there they are. Now, let’s see.” Byulyi and Seulgi looked at each other, then at Wheein—it was a good thing Wheein was asleep; she must’ve been the only thing keeping Hyejin civil. “No...I don’t see a Bae Joohyun anywhere on the patient’s list. Now, you kids should hurry back. This tunnel is for staff only.”

 

“Wait, wait!” Seulgi cried. “What about Son Seungwan?”

 

“Or Kim Yongsun,” Byulyi added quickly.

 

Silence.

 

“Oh.” The voice was quiet. “Come, then. Meet me at the reception area. And you might want to be prepared. You kids have frightfully weak stomachs.”

 

 

Bae Joohyun was good at many things but dealing with emotions had never been one of them. Ever since she grew her wings and was thrusted into the spotlight against her will, she disliked emotions even more. At first, it was the emotions of others that she hated. She didn’t understand why anyone would expose themselves to such vulnerability around her, why anyone would choose to be so wilfully manipulated for the sake of her affection.

 

Then there was Seungwan. Sweet, sweet Seungwan who taught her what it was like—and she hated it all the more. Joohyun had spent years resenting her own feelings—her one wish for Seungwan to love her, not because of some curse or some moment of weakness, but wholeheartedly love her in a way she would love no one else.

 

It was stupid and selfish and impossible, and—as she sat in the hospital waiting room now with her head buried in her hands—inconsequential. None of it seemed to matter anymore.

 

Nothing. All those years and all messes she put them through with her love, her lust, her indecision—these problems that were so insurmountably big only hours ago…none of those things mattered.

 

Especially not when the memory of Seungwan turning toward her, so beautiful in her blue dress, burned with so much guilt. She bowed her head and wrapped her arms around herself—just when she thought her tear ducts had run dry, it all started again.

 

It had been two hours now since she, with the help of Athena, had rushed both Yongsun and Seungwan to the hospital. And still she could not shake the same six images, like old Polaroid pictures where the light didn’t seem quite right, looping before her eyes again and again and again. It was painfully surreal.

 

One—Her own tears burned hot down her face when she placed Yongsun on the forest floor and ran toward the fallen tree. Her arms pushing through the broken branches, her heart rang in her ears, fearful of what she was about to see.

 

Two—The upturned roots softened the impact and drove the tree toward the ground at an angle. She drew closer. She heard her name being called, so softly it could’ve been the wind, and that’s when her eyes found her.

 

Three—Seungwan, lying on her back, the tree pressed against her torso and legs—her peacock blue dress splattered with crimson red. Joohyun fell to her knees, and bent over her, sobbing her apologies until they sounded empty and incoherent to her own ears.

 

“Unnie.” Seungwan’s broken smile was still so radiant. “It’s okay,” she said weakly. “It’s...it’s okay...It’s not your fault...”

 

“Seungwan...Seungwan, stay awake. Please, please, please. Don’t leave me, Seungwan. I-I love…”

 

Four—Seungwan, eyes closed.

 

Five—Her and her useless, useless tears, as she tried to lift the tree off her. She screamed, she swore, she spread her wings with the rush of adrenaline. Possessed by anger, fear, and pain, she threw herself against the massive trunk. Every fibre within her strained and screamed.

 

Six—Athena swept in, her voice bellowing like an army of angels. Her coal-black head appeared in Joohyun’s blurry peripheral. Her massive claws dug into the bark and ripped the trunk back. Joohyun fell forward into the dirt. She crawled toward Seungwan’s body and laid her head over her faintly beating heart. Athena nudged her gently, reminding her she wasn’t alone.

 

But she was alone. The six images rolled around and around, details falling in and out of place with every loop.

 

Seungwan had been rushed into surgery.

 

Yongsun was sent into a private room.

 

Joohyun had never been so alone in her life. So alone and so, so, so guilty. So guilty, and so useless.

 

She raised her head for a moment and gazed up at the red light above the doors to the operating theatre. The red light—the bloody red dress—her red hands—Joohyun looked down at the wrist braces on both hands, mocking her for her own incompetance, and wrapped her arms around herself once more.

 

“Unnie.” Joohyun’s head shot up. She hurriedly swiped the tears away from her eyes, cleared her throat, and sat up straight before her bleary and tired eyes could focus on the figure before her. “You don’t have to pretend in front of me.”

 

“Seulgi,” Joohyun whispered. Too exhausted for spite, she mumbled, “Where’s Byulyi?”

 

“Visiting Yongsun-unnie. I...I told her to give us some space. She’s worried about Seungwan too.”

 

“How did you know?”

 

“Athena came to get us. And then the wrinkly dragon at the front desk told us everything.” Seulgi sat down beside her and pressed a plastic tub into her hands. “Here,” Seulgi said gently, “I got some seaweed soup at the cafeteria when I came in. They’re probably not as good as yours, but...you haven’t eaten, right?”

 

Joohyun shook her head and looked down at the plastic lid like it was an alien artefact. She hadn’t thought about food in a while—how could she? Especially when Seungwan…

 

“How is she?” Seulgi said, tentatively placing a gloved hand on Joohyun’s knee.

 

The third image—the blue dress dyed in red—flashed before Joohyun’s eyes. Her body tensed. She lowered her head in shame. 

“I…I don’t know.”

 

Seulgi sighed as she reached over and peeled off the lid of the container. “Whatever happened out there,” she said, wrapping Joohyun’s fingers around a plastic spoon, “it’s not your fault.”

 

“It is,” Joohyun whispered. “I’m the one who did this.”

 

Seulgi shook her head, satisfied when Joohyun took a small sip. “You would never intentionally hurt her. I know you, unnie. You love her more than yourself sometimes.”

 

“You weren’t there.”

 

“But...I think it’s true.”

 

Joohyun did not respond.

 

“Remember in middle-school when I accidentally spilled juice all over you?”

 

Joohyun looked up and shook her head.

 

“Seungwan offered to help you wash it out in the bathroom, and you said no. I think that time was the first time Seungwan ever got mad at me, and I was so confused. And hurt.” Seulgi knit her fingers together and gazed down at them as she spoke. “I didn’t know how to talk to you for the longest time. I think...I think I even hated you because you took my best friend away.”

 

“I didn’t mean to, Seul,” Joohyun replied quietly.

 

“Wait, I’m not done. I...you know there are a lot of things I don’t understand, but do you remember the time I accidentally touched a girl and she ended up kissing me in front of her boyfriend?”

 

Joohyun chuckled lightly. “Yes, this one I remember. Seungwan ran in to save you from the girl that time. That girl was pretty relentless.”

 

“Then you went in just as the boy was about to punch me, and he ended up bruising you in the eye,” Seulgi said with a small smile. “Lots of people beat him up for hurting you after that.”

 

Joohyun scoffed. “Yes, people do extraordinarily stupid things for the strangest reasons sometimes.”

 

“But you protected me like you always did, and you were so cool and at that time, I remember thinking, ‘ah, this is called love too, isn’t it?’ The three of us—we’re a family.”

 

“We were so happy back then, weren’t we?” Joohyun said, her lips curling into a sad smile. “What happened?”

 

“Nothing,” Seulgi shrugged. “We got older. We got a little less trusting. We learned to overthink because we learned to put labels on everything and we learned to categorize everything in these simple little bins of good and bad.”

 

Joohyun placed her soup on the empty chair beside her, suddenly sick to her stomach with the truth and the guilt roiling up inside. “I’m...I’m sorry, Seul,” she said, holding her stomach.

 

Seulgi shook her head. “We’re all guilty, unnie.”

 

“I’ve just...been such an idiot.” She rubbed her face with a hand, her walls suddenly too heavy for her to lift on her own. “I thought we could go back to the way things were before Wan left...before all my feelings got out of control and I...I let the emptiness eat me up and turn me into this...this petty, jealous, hollow person I hate. I didn’t want you two to see the mess I’d become. I wanted to be that perfect unnie in your eyes so badly, and in the end…I hurt you too.”

 

“We never thought you were perfect,” Seulgi said, glancing at Joohyun’s ruddy profile with the hint of a smile. “Do you know what Seungwan said to me when we first saw you?”

 

Joohyun met her eyes for the first time—caught up in her own mess, she hadn’t noticed the red edges around Seulgi’s eyes. Selfish to the end, Joohyun thought glumly. She had to be the worst big sister figure in the world. “No,” she replied quietly, crumpling further into herself.

 

“We were walking home when we saw you being crowded by the other kids, and Wannie pulled my arm really hard and said, ‘Look! That’s the new person! Isn’t she the most beautiful and the loneliest person you’ve ever seen? I wish I could be her friend and make her happy.’” Seulgi laughed lightly, slightly hoarser than Joohyun remembered. “Seungwan hasn’t changed a bit, has she?”

 

“No, she hasn’t.”

 

“See? It doesn’t matter. None of us are perfect. But Seungwan and I—we’ve loved you all these years just the same. Seungwan...she didn’t care that you liked singing to people—she just wanted you to be happy, even if she couldn’t be the one to make you happy. You know that, right unnie?”

 

Seulgi wrapped her arms around Joohyun and hooked her chin on her shoulder. “We both want you to be happy.”

 

Countless times since the accident, Joohyun once more felt small—vulnerable. Fresh tears welled in her eyes, the weights slid off her body one by one, and the darkest truths she’d cuffed herself to seemed to vanish into light—at least for this moment all she could feel was love. At least for this moment, the suffocating guilt left her, and she could breathe again.

 

She closed her eyes and allowed her arms to wrap around Seulgi’s back. She inhaled the scent of her childhood friend and, like a stray and battered boat finally reaching the shore, was safe.

 

Seulgi rubbed her back and listened to the muffled, arrhythmic cries of Joohyun’s heart dissolving into quiet sobs.

 

Long moments passed—both engulfed in their own swirling thoughts. Joohyun shifted, then pulled away from the embrace to wordlessly lay her head on Seulgi’s shoulder. Her hand swiped at her swollen eyes, and her stifled cries quieted down to gentle sniffling. Seulgi paid her head on hers and closed her eyes.

 

Two more hours would pass before a doctor, a tall, slim shaggy-haired woman with a single horn protruding from the center of her forehead, appeared and woke them up. The doctor had the kind of strained smile that bordered on resignation, plastered on by protocol rather than will. She ran through the notes on her clipboard emotionlessly and methodically, and Joohyun and Seulgi were left reeling on plastic waiting chairs.

 

“She is alive,” the doctor had said. “But several bones in her hips and legs were fractured badly, so her mobility may be compromised for the next several months. The good news is that her speedy arrival meant that the internal bleeding was able to be contained without further damage. It was fortunate that her spine, chest, and head sustained minimal trauma. Right now, all we can do is monitor her. When she wakes up, we will walk you through rehabilitation and physiotherapy. We are expecting a full recovery, but it cannot be guaranteed without take time and effort.”

 

“Can we see her?”

 

“Right,” The doctor said, flipping over several sheets on her clipboard. “As you might know, typically we would send one of our resident fairies to sing to the patients as a form of hypnotism—it’s a healthier alternative to anaesthesia because medicine can have unpredictable repercussions on supernatural creatures. Unfortunately, because jackalopes are immune to effects of musically-based curses, we’ve had to resort to medication.”

 

“What?”

 

“The anesthesia should wear off in a few hours, but she will need rest and constant monitoring through the night to make sure she is stable. I suggest you come back tomorrow if you want to assist in her recovery.”

 

Joohyun sat back in her chair, her heart hammering after the doctor departed. Everything around her came to a slow: the noises and the colours, Seulgi wrapping her arms around her, cheering and crying with relief, and her own arms, raising stiffly to return the embrace. Her heart throbbed louder than a jet plane. Seungwan was going to be okay.

 

Seungwan was immune to musical curses.

 

Wait.

 

This whole time—

 

“Seulgi,” Joohyun said, recoiling back. She grabbed her shoulders and looked her straight in her wide eyes. “D-did you hear that?”

 

“W-what’s wrong, unnie? You’re scaring me suddenly. Wan is going to be okay. Isn’t that great?”

 

“Yes, and I-I’m happy...but,” her eyes flick downwards. “I’m sorry, Seul, I just...don’t understand.”

 

Seulgi tilted her head. “What are you talking about?”

 

“They said Seungwan is immune to music curses. That doesn’t make any sense,” Joohyun said. She tightened her grip on Seulgi’s shoulder, causing the younger girl to flinch slightly. “Do you...do you think the doctor was lying? Maybe something happened in there and they didn’t tell us...w-what if it was something bad? Do you think they might know something we don’t?”

 

“Unnie, please,” Seulgi urged, “breathe. Calm down. Yes, that’s it—in and out—just take a breath and calm down for a moment.” She nudged Joohyun’s arms out, loosening the grip on her shoulder, and held her hands in her own. Her dark eyes shone with worry. “The doctor wouldn’t lie to us. That’s illegal.”

 

“But if she is immune...then...my songs...I don’t understand. When I sang to her, she...”

 

At this, Seulgi could not contain a smile. “I tried to tell you many times. Well, I didn’t know she was immune, so I don’t know what your songs did, but she has always been in love with you.”

 

“Seul—this can’t—” 

No. Her smile fell away—Seulgi did not want to go through this again. No, no, no.

 

She tightened her grip on Joohyun’s hands. “Unnie, stop it,” she pleaded, her eyes prickling. “Stop pretending you didn’t know. Stop pretending you don’t see the way she looks at you and how happy you make her. Stop pretending she doesn’t make you happy too. I...I might just be a weird succubus, and I might not understand love the way you do, but it doesn’t mean I can’t see how much pain you’ve both been through. I know what you tell yourselves because neither of you think you deserve to be happy. We’re all messed up, but we’re still trying to pretend we’re in middle school because changing anything to find happiness is just so damn scary, and I just—I just—I just want us to be honest and happy and free, unnie, so please...stop.”

 

“Oh, Seulgi,” Joohyun murmured, slipping her hand out of Seulgi’s grip to wipe her cheek with the back of her hand. “Don’t cry, Seul, please don’t cry. Don’t cry...please. I’m sorry...I’m so sorry. You...You were trying your best all these years, weren’t you?”

 

Seulgi nodded vigorously, sniffling.

 

Joohyun reached up and ruffled her hair. “Thank you, Seul. For everything.” They exchanged a mirroring smile and her heart lifted. “And I can’t promise that I can always be happy, but I promise I’ll try. For now, we should both eat something, take a nap—maybe even a shower—then we’ll come back and see Seungwan. A-as much as I want to see her right now, the doctor said she needs to rest. But, um, I...I really want to be there when she wakes up. Is that alright?”

 

Seulgi grinned. It was as if the sun was finally breaking through a long, long storm.

 

“Yes.”


	11. The Love We Find At the End of Time

Byulyi stood frozen in front of a beige door, her heart pounding a mile a minute. She cast a nervous glance at the brushed-silver name plate beside the door, “Kim Yongsun” printed on a slip of paper held up by a piece of tape on the plaque. The temporary makeshift name plate seemed hauntingly out of place in the pristine, sterile hallway—a shiver ran down her spine for more reasons than one. She could already smell the familiar fragrance, sweet and floral, from through the thin hospital walls, and her palms began to sweat.

 

“Um, Byulyi-unnie, are you okay?” came Wheein’s voice behind her. 

 

“You know she’s watching us, right?” Hyejin added. Just to demonstrate her point, she stepped up to the window beside the door and gave Yongsun a big smile and a wave. When Yongsun waved back with a tired smile, she added, “She’s so pretty even in a hospital gown.” 

 

“Hyejin-ah,” Wheein said, slapping her impatiently. “Yongsun-unnie is probably very upset. I really need you to be on your best behaviour, okay? 

 

Hyejin crossed her arms and quirked a brow. “I know you’re jealous and it’s super adorable, but you’re also right so I will be good.” She looped her arm around Wheein’s. “You can reward me later.” 

 

Wheein’s face flushed crimson. “Aish, let’s go.”

 

Before Byulyi could confidently say she was ready, the two younger girls pushed past her and into Yongsun’s private room. She followed the trail of excited voices inside, her heart skipping a beat when Yongsun locked eyes with her. Her mouth opened—or perhaps she thought it was open—but when no words came out, she stuck her hand up in a stiff half wave that she hoped nobody saw. 

 

Fortunately, the hushed concern of her friends quickly took over the room. “Unnie, are you okay?” Hyejin asked. Despite her playful attitude just a few moments ago, her fingers on Wheein’s arm visibly tightened. Like clockwork, Wheein covered her hand with her own. 

 

Yongsun nodded. “I’m fine,” she said with a smile. “Joohyun saved me. I’m sorry for making you worry.” Her eyes caught Byulyi’s again, and, out of habit, Byulyi looked away, suddenly finding her shoes far more interesting. 

 

“Don’t be stupid,” Hyejin said. “You’re the one sitting in a hospital. How can you apologize?” 

 

“Hyejin!” Wheein nudged. “You promised.” 

 

Hyejin’s tails curled. “Sorry.” 

 

Yongsun’s warm smile did not falter. “It’s okay. You’re right—I should be saying thank you.” 

 

Hyejin brightened once more. “You’re welcome! We’re happy to see that you’re okay. Right, Byulyi-unnie?” 

 

All eyes were on Byulyi, who felt her whole body suddenly flare up in embarrassment. “R-right,” she said, slinking toward the back wall. 

 

Wheein rolled her eyes, punched Hyejin in the shoulder, and cleared her throat, mercifully taking the spotlight from Byulyi. “How long are you staying here?” Wheein asked Yongsun. 

 

“Just tonight. I think I’m fine? I just have a few cuts and scrapes, but the doctors wanted to keep me here to make sure everything is alright, I guess. Joohyun was pretty insistent since I passed out a few times.”

 

“Wait, I saw Joohyun-unnie in the waiting room earlier. Seulgi told us not to approach—why didn’t she get a room?”

 

“Wheein-ah,” Yongsun chuckled. “Have you met Joohyun? She can be pretty stubborn. They gave her a room, but she refused it. I was only half awake at that time, but it looked like she was going to rip the doctor in half when he said she couldn’t wait outside the operating theatre for Seungwan.” The lightness in her voice faded at the mention of Seungwan. “I hope she’ll be okay. Or Joohyun will never forgive herself...even though it’s my fault.” 

 

Hyejin released herself from Wheein’s side and gently sat on the edge of Yongsun’s bed. “I’m sure you didn’t mean for it to happen, unnie,” she said, resting her hand on her knee. “Please don’t blame yourself. Seulgi is with Joohyun now, so she’ll be alright.” 

 

There were so many things on Yongsun’s mind—even from across the room, Byulyi could read the suppressed emotions on her thin lips, and the worry on her brows. Their eyes met for a third time, and Byulyi, heart-heavy as she was to see her in such a state, mustered up a smile. 

 

Unbeknownst to the two, Wheein noticed this, and quietly smiled to herself. “Hey unnie?” she said, turning to Yongsun. “Hyejin and I are going to buy you some food, okay?” 

 

Wait, Byulyi started to say—it came out in a panicked squeak as Wheein pulled a confused, reluctant, and loud Hyejin off the bed, roughly ushering her out the door with a series of excuses. It happened so quickly—she wasn’t ready. The blood drained from Byulyi’s face when she suddenly found herself alone in a room with the woman of her dreams. 

 

Neither said a word as their anxious eyes roamed the room for something to look at. All Byulyi could think about suddenly was that overwhelming fragrance she could not control; all Yongsun could think about was Byulyi and Joohyun—they pushed their thoughts down to the pit of their stomachs, and dredged up enough courtesy for a moment’s eye contact.

 

“H-how are you feeling?” Byulyi asked. She shuffled a little closer, her hands getting clammy again in their own fists. 

 

“Tired,” Yongsun replied with an uneasy smile. “It’s been a long day. Do you want to sit?” 

 

Byulyi’s eyes snapped up, then darted to the floor again for fear of what she might reveal. Yongsun gestured to the space Hyejin was occupying only a moment before, her smile so sweet that Byulyi almost felt dirty. 

 

“I don’t know if I—” 

 

“Sit, Byulyissi.” Her voice was firm, yet warm, and Byulyi found herself moving before her mind could continue resisting. As gently as possible, she lowered herself to the very edge of the bed, arms and legs pulled together, taking as little space as she could. Yongsun watched on and tilted her head. “Are you...afraid of me?” 

 

Her eyes widened—Byulyi shook her head vigorously. “No, no, no—o-of course not!” She took a deep breath and slid her gaze to meet Yongsun’s. “I’m...afraid of myself,” she whispered. “There are lots of things that I don’t understand. Lots of things that I thought I understood, but whenever I see you I just…” She trailed off, her thoughts suddenly far away when she found that she had been leaning her body closer and closer as she spoke. Yongsun stiffened visibly, but her gaze was unwavering. Byulyi touched her shoulder—Yongsun’s breath hitched—and softly, so softly, kissed her. It lasted no more than a moment, just enough time to close her eyes, but the pull to stay was overwhelming. 

 

It took every effort to flip her senses back to rationality, back to a place to anchor her reality. She opened her eyes and tugged her body back—as far back from Yongsun’s radiating warmth as she could. Swirling depths of restrained emotion flashed her eyes—Yongsun reached for her hand, and held her palm in her own. “I’m sorry,” Byulyi said, shame curling in the pit of her stomach. “I-I didn’t mean to do that. It’s...I don’t know.” 

 

Yongsun quirked a smile. “It’s okay. It’s the curse. Joohyun told you, right?” 

 

“Yes.” Byulyi wrapped her hand around Yongsun’s. “I don’t know much about the supernatural world, so I can’t say if the curse is real or not, but I do know that I….really like you.” She paused the moment with a smile and a distant, downward gaze, as if her mind had drifted off to a different world. “Like... _really_ like you. I may have even...used a word...stronger than that. A word Joohyun-unnie didn’t like much.” She bit her lip—Yongsun looked away. “A-anyway, I...I don’t know what she told you, but i-if you want me to break it, I-I’ll do it. I wasn’t lying about that. I just...I just needed to hear it from you. That you want me to do it.” 

 

“Do you want to?” Yongsun asked tentatively. 

 

Much to Yongsun’s surprise, she did not hesitate: “No.” 

 

“How can you be sure? This could all be an illusion. You could wake up just like that,” she said with a snap, “and remember nothing.” 

 

“I guess I haven’t lived long enough to worry about everything,” Byulyi replied with a sheepish smile. “The curse—it makes sense, I guess, but I don’t care. My feelings for you are very real to me, and I treasure them—I will treasure them even if you want me to break the curse. I think...if I break the curse, my heart will ache anyway...so it doesn’t change my feelings for you. I-I know that right now, curse or no curse, in this moment, I have never loved anything as much as I love you. And that’s real enough for me.” 

 

“Byulyissi…” Yongsun slipped her hand out of Byulyi’s and buried her face in it—Byulyi stiffened, her heart in her ears, ready to embrace whatever came next. “I...don’t know what to do. I feel the same way and it’s so intense, I...I don’t understand it. It scares me.” 

 

“Y-you do?” 

 

“Yes,” Yongsun said with a sad smile. “From the beginning, I’ve known it like I know that one plus one equals two, and yet...it’s the reasons why this equation works that bother me. I want to fall in love with you head first—half of me is already in the water, and yet...it just scares me more than anything that I could fall in and drown. You can say what you like, but if this is just a simple curse, the gentlest flap of a butterfly’s wing can turn this into a tsunami. I don’t know, Byulyi...I know I’m rambling, but I just don’t know, and I’m so scared.” 

 

Byulyis looked up at the ceiling. She wanted so badly to reach out and hold Yongsun’s trembling body. Instead, she tried to memorize the exact shade of white above them. “What should we do now?” she asked softly. Filled with haphazardly labelled feelings and nowhere to put them—how did we get here? She thought miserably, and where can we possibly go? 

 

“I don’t know,” she replied, running a hand through her hair several times over. She slumped over and held her face in her hands. Three more times, she repeated her reply, sounding more desperate each time. 

 

“D-do you want to break the curse?” Byulyi asked. 

 

“I don’t know.” Yongsun whimpered, sniffling a little, “I’ve never been so unsure of anything. Joohyun...she doesn’t believe there’s a curse. And I...I didn’t want to believe there _wasn’t_ a curse. If the curse doesn’t exist, then I’d have to admit to these powerful and irrational feelings and that this really _is_ love and I just...don’t know what to do about them. If it’s just plain, old, simple love...what if it all falls apart? What if I...can’t be the girl you fell in love with forever? I mean, I don’t even know who that person is... What if you leave? I don’t know, Byulyissi. You’re so...honest and brave, and I’m...I’m scared all the time. I can’t even properly transform because I’ve been paranoid and afraid my whole life. I’m not—”

 

“Unnie, stop, please,” Byulyi pleaded. She gently pried her hands from her face. “Don’t be scared. I might not be good for much, but I won’t leave you. I can’t promise that I won’t ever disappoint you, but I want to try. C-can’t we try? Please?” 

 

Yongsun was silent for a while. Byulyi let go of her hands and sat back, giving her space to think—enough space to prepare her own broken heart if things go wrong. The seconds ticked by—she tried not to think about the overwhelming scent. 

 

Finally, Yongsun leaned back, exhaling softly through her nose. “I want to...but...do you know why I was so desperate to find Joohyun today?” Byulyi shook her head, the pained smile on Yongsun’s face secretly pressing down on her chest. “I kept imagining all the things she could’ve done to you in the library. I was convinced somehow that she sang to you to make you forget about me, and the image I had of you and Joohyun together...I felt like I was going crazy—I hated it so much. And...and these thoughts...that’s why we ended up here. It’s all my fault, Byul. I’m...I’m crazy. You just haven’t seen it yet. Well, maybe you’re seeing it now. I don’t—” 

 

Before she could allow her to continue down the spiral, Byulyi slid forward and wrapped both arms tightly around her, suddenly so dizzy with her scent she had to squeezed her eyes shut. “It’s not your fault,” she whispered. “And you’re not crazy. It’s a little uncomfortable to picture myself with Joohyun-unnie,” she chuckled, “but I’m happy to hear that you were worried about me.” 

 

Yongsun shook her head and sunk deeper into the the crook of Byulyi’s neck. “It’ll wear you down, Byul.” 

 

“I trust you,” Byulyi whispered into her shoulder. Her scent filled her nose, stronger than ever, suddenly filling her with the urge to bite down on her skin. Yongsun was so warm and so vulnerable—she wanted to stay this way forever—her self-control, however, was unravelling before her eyes. 

 

With shaking hands, she pushed Yongsun back, perhaps an ounce harder than she intended when Yongsun hit the headboard with a yelp. “S-sorry,” she mumbled, shooting from her seat. Half of her wanted to dive in and pick her up in her arms, while the other half wanted to flee the room—trapped, she stood with her arms out in front of her, struck mute by her own indecision. 

 

“It’s okay,” Yongsun said, rubbing the back of her head. “I’m okay. Is something wrong?” 

 

Byulyi relaxed her arms to her side. “Thank goodness.” But when Yongsun continued watching and waiting, her words knotted up inside her mouth, and she found herself apologizing again for being so clumsy. 

 

Yongsun chewed her bottom lip—Byulyi stared at her shoes in shame. “You trust me, right?” She said with a small smile. Byulyi raised her eyes and nodded. “I trust you too. Somehow, scared as I am about...all of this...I want to you to feel like you can tell me anything. Like maybe we can share our honest feelings? S-sorry, is that asking too much, too soon?”

 

Byulyi shook her head and gathered her courage into her fists at her side. “It’s your scent.” 

 

“My...scent?” 

 

Byulyi nodded. “I can’t describe it, but it...it’s...even after I learned to control my senses, it’s very strong, and it draws me in and it makes me...a little...crazy—I know this sounds like a part of the curse, but trust me, unnie, I’m...I’m trying”—she swallowed—“to control it.” 

 

Yongsun bowed her head and sniffed her own shoulder. “My scent?” she murmured to herself. Something about this sounded very familiar. Her memories peeled back the layers and tried to frantically search for the answer. Even if she did not have her massive tomes in her hands, she had read enough books to hope whatever she was looking for would reveal itself. 

 

Absentmindedly, she tapped on her temple, an apology too muffled for Byulyi to comprehend. 

 

Meanwhile, Byulyi watched her, anxious for a reaction. She wasn’t sure what had happened when Yongsun’s eyes suddenly glazed over, as if entering an alternate plane of existence. It was only a few moments, but despite the adorable, changing expressions, her discomfort was excruciating—did she say something wrong? Was she disgusted? Did she need more space? 

 

Finally, Yongsun lit up and mercy came. “I got it! It’s jasmine.”

 

“What?”

 

Yongsun slowly laid her head back on her headboard once more, the slow realization settling like a weight on her chest. “This whole time...” she said with a resigned smile, “it’s not a curse. It’s...science.” 

 

“Unnie, I swear, I—” 

 

But Yongsun’s eyes were closed, and a theory was taking over her consciousness as it fit its individual pieces into place. “I don’t have my books, so I can’t verify this at the moment, but there has been a number of experiments conducted on the effect of scent on zoomorphic species of supernatural creatures.” Byulyi inched back a little—though Yongsun was addressing her, it was as if she was talking to thin air, like she was trying to work out a secret problem as she spoke. “It’s like cats and catnip. It’s been theorized that some species have a chemical reaction to certain scents the same way a regular house cat might be drawn to catnip, but known scents have been considered so rare that it has been almost impossible to catalogue.” 

 

Byulyi’s heart began beating a little faster. “What are you saying?” Byulyi shook her head—she knew what she was saying; it was a matter of belief. 

 

“This scent...it’s my perfume. It’s made from the blossoms of a very rare variant of jasmine found only on the peaks of the Fagaras Mountains. My family has cultivated this flower for a thousand years—it’s...a subtle scent, but perhaps unlike anything else. We wear it like a family crest. Maybe...maybe, Byulyi...that’s the answer.” When Yongsun opened her eyes again, her smile was tinged with both relief and sadness. 

 

Byulyi’s heart ached at the accusation embedded in that smile. “Science...or folklore—it doesn’t matter which one, does it?” She said slowly. “If you believe strongly in something, no one can take that away from you.” Yongsun tilted her head, her fragile smile deflating into a thin line. “Yes, there is something about this scent that’s almost...animal, but I also understand now that you will never rest until you’re satisfied with the answer you find.” She looked down at her feet, her fists tight at her side. “And maybe...maybe you will never be satisfied. Maybe you’ll keep finding things to tell yourself because you’re convinced that what we have isn’t real. S-so maybe...you don’t want this to be real.”

 

“Byul, I—” 

 

“It’s okay, unnie, I understand.” 

 

With that, Byulyi bowed and bolted out of the room, her hands pressed to her eyes so no one—despite the bewildered faces of those she passed by—could see the way her heart was dissolving into salt water. She couldn’t breathe. She needed to get out. 

 

Not knowing where she was going, she blindly stumbled through the halls, murmuring her apologies to anything she touched, until—finally—she felt the sun on her face again. She lowered her hand from her eyes, and looked up into the blinding sun and took a deep breath. 

 

She pictured the field, a single pegasus flying about her, and her erratic heartbeat slowed. What the hell was she doing—running away at the first chance? After everything she said about trust, how could she turn her back on Yongsun now? The pain—the pain of rejection was so real, and yet...what if it was only an illusion?

 

She stood, arms wrapped around herself as the sun set behind the treeline. 

 

It didn’t matter if the ache was an illusion, did it? It hurt, but it didn’t have to. Yongsun could be hurting too—no, she wasn’t going to give up. Not until she received a clear and resounding rejection. 

 

 A nurse nearby asked if she was alright, and she smiled. “Yes,” she said, “I’m going to be fine.” 

 

* * *

 

Meanwhile, Wheein and Hyejin were finishing off their cups of coffee without a care in the world. “Hyejin-ah, you didn’t congratulate me yet,” Wheein said happily. 

 

Hyejin lowered her mug and raised a brow. “For what?”

 

“I finally got Byulyi-unnie and Yongsun-unnie together.” 

 

Hyejin chuckled. “My love, you got them alone in a room together. Do you think they’ll confess and kiss and start making babies just like that?” 

 

Wheein stirred her coffee nonchalantly. “Firstly, yes because I believe in them.” It was her turn to raise a brow now. “You _do_ know how babies are made, right?” 

 

Hyejin grinned. “If I say no, will you show me?” 

 

“Hyejin!” Wheein screeched, blushing fiercely when several people looked over at their table. “D-don’t say stuff like that in public!”

 

“Anyway,” Hyejin went on coolly with a wave of her hand, “I don’t think those two idiots will make it easy on themselves. I see Yongsun-unnie once in a while and I help her carry her books, so think I know her a little better than you. She bought me coffee once too, and we had a really nice, long chat.”

 

Wheein’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t tell me this.”

 

But Hyejin went on: “She might be super pretty and cool and smart as hell, but I don’t think she’s much better than Byulyi-unnie.” 

 

“Okay, putting this Yongsun stuff aside for now...what do you mean by that?” 

 

Hyejin shrugged. “They’re both idiots. They live in their heads and they mess everything up on their own. Yongsun-unnie...it’s like she’s afraid of anything she hasn’t read in a book before. I mean, I thought I was bad back then, but her—you remember the lollipops, right?”

 

“How can I forget? It was the most flattering and the most insane gesture in the history of the universe,” Wheein snickered. “You were so cute back then.”

 

“Excuse me, I’m still cute—not as cute as you though. But I’m telling you, unnie is way worse than I ever was. You didn’t know me in elementary school, but I’d go on month-long research expeditions in the library for whatever topic I was interested in at the time. Like, I built a miniature replica of the White House out of chocolate wafers because I was into American history and because I was nine and had no friends.”

 

Wheein laughed. “I feel like all those years of being secretly in love with you and wondering where you went really paid off—you’re a way bigger weirdo than I could’ve imagined. Nine-year-old Wheein would’ve been smitten.” 

 

“I think if nine-year-old Hyejin had nine-year-old Wheein in her life—fuck American history! I’d be researching a whole new world, if you know what I mean.” 

 

“Don’t be gross, Hyejinie. But also—I love that thought. Would you build a little wafer stature of me?” 

 

“Every day.” 

 

Wheein beamed, brightly at first, then—”That would be the sweetest thing ever if we hadn’t been talking about your secret dates with Yongsun-unnie just a few minutes ago.” 

 

Hyejin stuck out her bottom lip. “Fine, as I was saying… Yongsun-unnie is way worse than spending every moment of every day building models out of food. From what I’ve seen, she’d probably read as much as she can about the White House and just leave it at that. She probably wouldn’t want to see it in real life, and she probably wouldn’t make something as useless and impractical as a wafer statue. Remember when Mr. Foxley’s son sent me those marshmallows?” 

 

Wheein quirked a brow. “The little fox-shaped ones? I thought you said you ate them all. And why are you changing the subject?” 

 

“Well, I may have saved some...for Yongsun-unnie,” Hyejin said with a sheepish smile. 

 

Wheein crossed her arms. “We need to have a good, long talk about your crush on Yongsun.” 

 

Hyejin leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Anyway, she didn’t eat them in the end. She’d never seen a bright orange marshmallow before so she was very nervous about it. I told her they were marshmallows and she had _so_ many questions. Like what kind of oil was used, and what kind of sugar, and what type of metal the mold was made from. Who would know these things?” 

 

Wheein looked thoughtful as she listened, nodding once in awhile as she turned the information over. What she _really_ needed to know and felt _very_ inclined to ask, however, was: “Did you eat all the marshmallows after that?”

 

Hyejin deflated a little. “Yes.”

 

“It’s okay,” Wheein said with a sweet smile. “You’ll get me more, right?”

 

“Aish,” Hyejin shook her head with a smile, “what happened to the sweet Wheein who made me share all of my lollipops?” 

 

“I love sharing—just not with your crush.” 

 

“I love you, Wheein.” Hyejin smiles sweetly. 

 

Wheein stuck her tongue out. “Okay, but there is something I don’t understand. Assuming what you said is true, how can someone so careful also be so sociable? I’d definitely have agoraphobia if I had to think about what type of metal touched my candy.” 

 

Hyejin rapped her chin with the end of her spoon. “Well, she comes from a rich family, right? She’s probably used to social bullshit. My mom took me around to charity balls and fundraisers a few times and it’s awful. From what I know, she most likely had to suffer the same pretences, if not even more. Us gumiho are reclusive. Vampires? Showy bastards. So I’m not surprised she’s so good at pretending to be perfect.” 

 

Wheein winced. “When you put it that way...it makes more sense.”

 

“You should spend time with her too,” Hyejin grinned. “You’ll like her a lot. Oh, but I might get jealous...and I don’t want you to get mad at me, so maybe not.” 

 

“I still think we need to talk about—Oh, wait! Hyejin!” She suddenly rose and slammed her hands on the table. “We forgot to buy food for Yongsun-unnie!” 

 

“Oh my god. How did you—”

 

“Don’t blame me,” Wheein huffed. “You were the one getting grumpy because you were hungry and they didn’t have French fries here.” 

 

“Let’s go check on her and see what she wants to eat.” 

 

Wheein made a face. “What if she and Byulyi-unnie are…”

 

“You think too highly of them. If they are, I’ll buy you dinner for a week.” 

 

“Aigo, so confident.” Wheein grinned. “Deal.”

 

They cleaned up their coffee cups and made their way out of the hospital cafeteria and into the hall, but they didn’t get far when, down the hall, they heard the low growl of someone cursing and the clatter of metal falling to the floor. They looked up just in time to catch a familiar pointed-ear blur push through a bewildered crowd. An angry man shouted after her while aggressively pointing both hands at the pile of instruments he had dropped—Byulyi, with her hand pressed over her face, didn’t turn back. 

 

“Ah shit,” Hyejin mumbled.

 

“You were right,” Wheein said with a sigh. “Should we go after her?” 

 

“Maybe we should split up. I’ll go see if Yongsun-unnie is okay, and—”

 

“Nope,” Wheein said, grabbing her girlfriend by the elbow, “you’re coming with me.” 

 

* * *

 

Yongsun tossed and turned that night but found herself unable to sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she pictured the disappointment on Byulyi’s face, and the words, blaringly red : “You will never be satisfied.” Intellectually, she understood that theories are seldom conclusive. Evidence tend to disprove more than prove anything of value—but Byulyi...there were so many questions with no answers, so many unknown variables. What good could possibly come of this? Byulyi didn’t deserve to be thrown within a thousand miles of her storm. 

 

She pulled her pillow over her head in attempt to drown out her own thoughts and sleep. Just one hour and maybe she could believe it would all be okay. 

 

Deep into night, as she laid awake with her pillow  shielding her face with a false sense of safety , she heard the clack of her door. The nurse? Her whole body went still, as if movement would betray her deepest thoughts. If she didn’t move, perhaps they would go away soon. Her eyes squeezed shut. Please go away. Don’t look at me; don’t think less of me—go away, go away, go away. 

 

“Yong sun-ah .”

 

Yongsun whipped around, throwing her pillow back and her blankets forward. A violent shiver crept through her spine as she pushed herself up by the elbow, eyes wide in the dark. 

 

Hovering over her in the dark was a broken spirit, a face she could hardly recognize, hallowed, ghostly, and red as it was. “Joohyun?” 

 

Joohyun stepped into the light of the window, the white fluorescent light  in the hallway filtering through her blinds  casting a pale glow onto her pale skin. Her lips twitched, the full effort of a smile lost to interpretation. Her shoulders were slumped, tired, and something about the whole ghastly scene broke Yongsun’s heart. For a moment, she even wondered if she had died. Perhaps they were both dead somehow, despite how hard Joohyun had battled those doctors  and nurses  hours ago. 

 

“Hey,” Joohyun rasped. 

 

“What are you doing here? It’s...early, isn’t it?” 

 

Joohyun shrugged, her wings sagging about her like dead weight. “I tried to go see Wan. Slapped a doctor, but they wouldn’t let me see her, so I came to see you.” 

 

Yongsun scoffed in her attempt to laugh. “I’m surprised they didn’t kick you out.” 

 

“They wouldn’t dare.” 

 

Yongsun shook her head with her smile, shuffling back and opening her arms to let Joohyun into the small space on her hospital bed. Joohyun folded her wings back and slipped under the covers without another word. As they faced each other, troubled water in both sets of eyes, an unspoken truce seemed to be struck. Though they said nothing, their chests expanded and the welcome comfort of a familiar presence, a safe harbour, seemed to be everything. 

 

“How are you doing?” Yongsun whispered. She gingerly untucked Joohyun’s hands from under her chin, and ran a thumb over the hard, scratchy material of her wrist braces. “Does it still hurt?” 

 

Joohyun’s dark eyes flickered down to her own hands. God, how she hated those useless things. “No,” she replied.  “Just sore, I guess.”

 

Silence and steady breaths filled the space between them like  needle and thread along the seams of their friendship. 

 

Then, Joohyun let all her broken fragments out: “I thought she was going to die. That moment—seeing Seungwan and...and the blood. I want to see her so badly...I miss her so much.” Yongsun reache d out and held her head to her chest, gently stroking her hair. It was the first time she’d ever seen Joohyun cry, and it was almost cathartic to see her friend, so aloof and  so  guarded, finally give herself the chance to be honest. 

 

“I don’t want to live in a world without her,” Joohyun said with a sniffle. “I’ve wasted so much time—I just...I need her. I need her so much. She doesn’t deserve this. There’s just...so much she still has to do—if she died, I—I don’t know what I’d do. Even now...the doctor says she’s fine, but my heart is so...so tight. I wish I could take her place.” 

 

“Don’t say that. You would put her through so much grief...It’s my fault,” Yongsun whispered. “I’m sorry.”

 

“No.”

 

“I’m sorry.” 

 

“Don’t—please.” Joohyun tightened her hold on Yongsun. “This...it doesn’t help.” 

 

“You’re right,” Yongsun mumbled into her hair. “I’m sorry for taking it out on you. I’m sorry this whole mess with Byulyi happened—I was just...I am—just so scared. I was an idiot. All these years buried in books—what’s the use?” 

 

Joohyun pulled back slightly to meet Yongsun’s eyes. Then, in the first of several surprises, she smiled. “ We were all idiots. I mean,  I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Byulyi...she’s a good kid.”

 

“What? Are _you_ cursed? ”

 

Joohyun shook her head.  “No matter how much I threatened her, she told me she loves you.  Sure, it made me angry at the time since she tried to drag Seungwan into it, but, damn, she was brave. Much braver than I am. You know…it’s not easy for anybody to love so openly and wholeheartedly like that. It was like she had everything yet nothing to lose at the same time—it was magnificent. I really wish I could…take those kinds of risks. I don’t know.  I still think she’s stupid, but I think she would move mountains for you. I don’t think it’s just a curse either , she’s just— ”

 

“I know. It’s science .”

 

“What?”

 

Yongsun pulled at her hair lightly, a resigned smile flickering over her lips.  “My scent ,” she said. “ That’s what she’s drawn to. It’s the Faragasian jasmine.” 

 

Joohyun was silent for a moment, her inscrutable eyes glittering. Then came the second of Joohyun’s surprises: “Shut the fuck up and cut the bullshit.” It wasn’t angry, but as calm as a stated fact. Still, Yongsun’s eyes widened. 

 

“ Joohyun!”

 

Joohyun rested a hand on her shoulder. “Not even someone as dense as you can believe a theory with so many holes.” 

 

Yongsun pouted. “But she admitted to—”

 

“Yongsun-ah...listen, you’re right. She’s probably into your scent. What do you expect? She’s a dog. But that doesn’t explain anything about her feelings and, more importantly, _your_ feelings.” 

 

“B-but the jasmine—the attraction isn’t real,” Yongsun said weakly. 

 

“Unless…”  Joohyun narrowed her eyes. “She didn’t...take advantage of you, did she?” 

 

“N-n-no! Of course not ! Well,  sort of ,  I mean, we...w-we kissed ? It…it was mutual. ” 

 

Joohyun smiled again and pressed her forehead against Yongsun’s shoulder. “Then she’s already a better person than me. Listen...don’t let a stupid thing like a flower or a song ruin your chance at happiness. You can lose everything in a moment and nothing will matter, so don’t...don’t wait for that moment.”

 

Yongsun closed her eyes. She could feel Joohyun’s salt-slicked cheeks against her own, the heartbreak in every syllable echoing. 

 

“When I thought Seungwan was dying,” Joohyun murmured, “I couldn’t stop thinking the worst. I couldn’t stop thinking about how...how a life is worth so, so, so much more than our blind selfishness can see, and how...how we let such stupid shit control us.” She tightened her grip on Yongsun’s shirt. “Honestly...what’s a moment of fear compared to everything that could’ve been? We could all die tomorrow, Yong. And I don’t want to fucking die like this.” She slammed her fist against Yongsun’s back—Yongsun winced, but, though she did not  fully comprehend this yet, the grief in that blow stirred something deep inside. “I don’t want Seungwan to die like this.”

 

“I know.” Her fingers slipped through her hair. Like taking off a mask, she rubbed off the doubt. “She’s fine,” she whispered. “ I’m fine,  you’re fine, and  everything will be fine . Everything will be okay.” 

 

At least, curled up in the comfort and security of each other’s arms, it felt like it will. 

 


	12. A New Dawn

 

At the first sign of dawn’s blue-grey light, Byulyi stood in front of Yongsun’s room. The blinds were drawn this time, but the gnawing pit in her stomach brewed just as it did when she stood here hours ago. Without the familiar noise of Wheein and Hyejin’s teasing, the hallway seemed quieter than normal.

 

In trembling hands, she held a bouquet of flowers—bright yellow with a splash of deep green hiding beneath the open petals. Wheein and Hyejin had followed her through the night, searching the fields until she had to sit them on her back in her wolf form, where they slumped over and clung to her like a family of koalas. The transformation had been shaky at first, but the secret hours she spent practicing paid off when she bought herself just enough time to finish the bouquet and take the younger girls home.

 

Her footsteps drawing figure eights in front of the door was the only sound in that lonely hallway.  
  


* * *

  
Two floors above Byulyi, Joohyun was seated outside Seungwan’s room. She’d arrived ten minutes ago, when she’d woken up with just enough energy to think about threatening Seungwan’s doctor once more. And yet, even after he had given her the green light, she felt something—shame, guilt, and pain, to name a few—gnaw at the pit of her stomach.

 

She sat there with her head almost touching her knees, desperately searching for courage in the speckled floors. In one hand, she held a bouquet of flowers Seulgi had made her take, and in the other, she held her forehead, trying to remember how to breathe.

 

She glanced up at the drawn blinds and rubbed her weary eyes. She wondered if the light would be too bright for Seungwan.

 

* * *

 

With a final breath of courage, Byulyi knocked gently.

 

* * *

 

With a final breath of courage, Joohyun reached for the knob.

 

* * *

 

A bewildered nurse, an elderly elk-woman, opened the door for Byulyi. “What is with you people?” the nurse muttered. “It’s four-thirty in the morning! Let the patient sleep.”

 

Byulyi bowed, so swiftly and deeply that her vision rolled before her when she finally stopped. “S-should I come back?”

 

“Byul-ah, is that you?”

 

The nurse turned to the voice, then back at Byulyi, then shook her head. “You kids are crazy. Don’t take too long—we need to prepare Miss Kim for a final check-up in a couple hours before we can let her go. Really, you ought to let her rest.”

 

Byulyi thanked her quickly, and shuffled inside, but when the nurse turned at the door and gestured her inward, she stumbled on her own foot and fell inside less-than-gracefully, barely catching herself in time with a palm against the wall. On the other side of the room, the bubbling sounds of Yongsun’s laughter prompted a sheepish smile from Byulyi’s lips.

 

“Good morning, unnie,” Byulyi said, adjusting her grip on all the things she was holding, “Did, um, did you sleep well?”

 

Yongsun shook her head, a tired smile hanging from her lips. “And by the looks of your raccoon eyes, you didn’t sleep at all.”

 

Byulyi looked down at the bouquet of flowers and fidgeted uncomfortably. “You’re very observant,” she murmured. “I... I wanted to get you these...flowers.”

 

“Daffodils?”

 

“Yes. I wanted to apologize for just running out. We were...talking about trust and yet I just left you. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry,” she said, her ears deflating. “I... all that talk about love and couldn’t even take care of you. I should’ve...regardless of whether you accepted me. Isn’t that what love is about? I was—I felt like I was selfish, and I’m...I’m sorry.”

 

Yongsun said nothing for a while, then beckoned Byulyi over. Byulyi stuck her arm out stiffly and, in her haste to retreat from Yongsun’s immediate sphere of influence, dropped the bouquet into Yongsun’s lap. She apologized profusely, inconsolable as she tried to take the flowers back. But Yongsun simply laughed, placing a hand on her shoulder to forcibly sit her down beside her.

 

“Byul-ah,” she began—her tone was warm, almost as comfortable and unguarded as it had been in the library. Byulyi felt a sense of calm wash over her, and it was suddenly easy somehow to meet her eyes, “do you know what daffodils mean in the language of flowers?”

 

Byulyi shook her head. “I was looking for jasmine on the plateau, but these were all I could find,” she replied sheepishly.

 

“Well,” Yongsun said, casting her eyes on the yellow petals between her fingers, “daffodils have a lot of different meanings since it’s grown all over the world. But I think”—she paused to look up at Byulyi with a secret smile— “it must be some kind of destiny for you to have chosen this particular flower.”

 

Byulyi swallowed and nodded, unsure what to expect as she waited for Yongsun to continue.

 

“In some communities, this flower is associated with new beginnings and new hope. Others have associated it with joy. I’ve also read that daffodils can represent unrequited love, but...at the same time, it’s genus, _narcissus_ , is associated with the myth of Narcissus, a symbol of vanity, and in the same stream...self-love. It’s kind of amazing isn’t it? So many people all around the world and had so many different ideas…and…somehow, seeing it in my hands now. They all seem to make sense. I don’t know how, but…maybe it’s just a silly feeling.”

 

“Let me think about this...” Byulyi mumbled. She lit up not a minute later with a smile. With confidence as her wings, she found exactly the words she wanted to say: “Yongsun-unnie, I think I got it. These flowers—they’re saying exactly what I couldn’t find the words to say….something like…I’ve found the confidence to be with you no matter how you choose to define our love, and I want to step into the future with you and I want to make you happy.”

 

Yongsun froze, lips parted as her words, unexpected as they were, slowly massaged themselves into her heart.

 

“T-that’s what I hope these flowers can say,” Byulyi added. “S-something like that…”

 

Yongsun’s smile then shone brighter than the radiant yellow of the daffodils. “I like that very much.”

 

* * *

 

A bewildered doctor, a serpentine creature with wide blue eyes and a shaggy head of hair, hissed at the sudden entrance of Joohyun. “You scared me,” he grumbled. “Knock next time, won’t you?”

 

But Joohyun wasn’t looking at the doctor. Her eyes were on the sleeping girl behind him, pale and fragile as she’d ever seen her amongst inside a white shell over her lower body with tubes and tape all over the rest. A white, plastic mask with a thick tube was attached to her pale face, revealing only her eyes and her damp brows above them. Her chest moved ever so slightly with each breath as Seungwan breathed through her mask, which brought an unspeakable degree of relief to Joohyun.

 

When she didn’t say anything, the doctor sighed. “It looks a lot worse than it really is,” he said, gesturing to the white capsule, “The Egg is just a vessel for healing rhythms. Similar to the anesthetic kind we used during surgery. All it’s doing is accelerating the natural healing process.”

 

But Joohyun couldn’t care less. Not about The Egg, nor the doctor, and certainly not about the social exchange of fake politeness when all she could see was Son Seungwan.

 

“Leave us,” she said, brushing past the scowling doctor.

 

He grumbled under his breath in a language Joohyun didn’t understand but did little more to show his displeasure than slamming the door behind him as he slithered away.

 

Here she was—finally alone with Seungwan

 

Everything she wanted to say, everything she rehearsed, seemed to slip away into the oppressive silence around them. She hadn’t been prepared for the whiteness of the room and the tubes and the stillness—she wasn’t prepared at all. She’d thought of nothing but this moment in the last several hours, and yet...

 

Where could she begin?

 

“I brought you some flowers, Wan,” Joohyun told her as she busied herself by clumsily unwrapping the flowers and putting them in a nearby vase. “They’re hydrangeas. Seulgi said you liked them. I hope you like them.” Her fingers lingered on the stems for a moment as she sought out her next words. “Did you know, Wan, that Yongsun knows a lot about flowers? They didn’t let me see you earlier, so I went to visit her, and, well, we had a lot to talk about, and, um, I hope I can tell you about it someday. Anyway, she knows a lot about everything, and I told her I got you some hydrangeas.”

 

She smiled, her eyes never leaving the gentle blue petals. “Do you believe in the language of flowers, Wan? Apparently, some people say it means vanity. Other people think it’s about apologies and emotions and all that stuff I’m not sure how a flower is supposed to convey. It fits though, doesn’t it? Vanity. If it wasn’t for my selfishness… Ah, but I promised Yongsun I wouldn’t go there anymore.” She cleared her throat. “It...it means something like gratitude too, and I liked that a lot more. I’m very grateful to you, you know? Maybe I don’t say it enough, but you saved my life, and yet I...I’ve neglected you.”

 

She sighed then, the words from her lips sounded as hollow as she felt—what the hell was she doing? In a moment of reckless clarity, she sat down in the chair beside the bed and laid down her vulnerable heart. “We...haven’t spoken properly in a while, have we? We’ve been running around each other for so long, and for once! For once, I just want to tell you the truth,” she said, taking Seungwan’s hand and running her thumb along her fingers. “I’ve...been unfair to you. All these years I...maybe you already know this, but I’ve been selfish. I said I wouldn’t go there, but I have to. I should’ve been thinking about your feelings, but I was too blinded by my own and now... why did you pretend to be affected by my song, Wan?”

 

She kissed the palm of her hand. “I wish I knew what you were thinking. I wish...I wish I could’ve been more honest with you, so you’d know what I’d been thinking—what I’ve been feeling all this time. I don’t know if you can hear me, but I miss you.” She brought Seungwan’s hand to her own cheek and cupped gingerly with both hands. “I think...I’ve missed you since you left for Canada. I guess I just felt like...everything would be different. That _we_ would be different. And when I saw you again on the dock, I can’t tell you how difficult it was to not kiss you right then and there in front of everyone. That’s when I knew that we could never really go back. And yet...Wan, I miss who I used to be when I was with you. Do you...miss me too?”

 

Though she was alive and breathing, Seungwan did not stir. Joohyun smiled against the familiar warm touch of Seungwan’s palm. “I wish you would wake up soon,” she whispered, “but I’m a coward too. Maybe it’s best for me if you don’t hear me tell you that I...I...love you, Wan, and don’t know how to ask for your forgiveness. I love you so much, and all I’ve ever done is hurt you. And now, it’s because of me...it’s because of me that you’re here. I know I’m not worth your forgiveness, much less your love, but a selfish part of me hopes. Maybe you can forgive that too. God, what the hell am I saying to myself?”

 

Joohyun placed her hand back onto the bed with a heavy heart. “Even now, I’m being selfish and not letting you rest. Yes, I should go.” She pulled back her hand, but just as she stood to go, a finger twitched inside her palm. “S-Seungwan?” Her heart pounded furiously—Seungwan stiffly moved her hand into Joohyun’s.

 

She exhaled softly through the tube clamped over her mouth. Her eyes, dewy and pleading, sought out Joohyun’s. Whether it was the hopeful imagination of her selfish heart or the welcome splash of reality, she read the words in those eyes and on each breath: _don’t leave._

 

* * *

 

Yongsun grabbed the edge of Byulyi’s shirt.

 

* * *

 

Seungwan sank her fingers between Joohyun’s.

* * *

 

Kim Yongsun was never one to do things rashly. Fear of rejection, fear of abandonment, hammered into her skull early on by her family—it was just as Joohyun said. She’d let herself be tormented all her life by things she could not control. And now, standing right in front of her, was an opportunity to be reborn.

 

She let the daffodils fall to the side and opened her arms to embrace the future.

* * *

 

Son Seungwan was never one to say things lightly. Fear of her own overwhelming feelings around Joohyun, fear of change, fear of being good enough—these always held her back. She lived her whole life behind secret smiles, praying her feelings don’t destroy what she’d painstakingly built.

 

And now, having seen the darkness and the light, she returned to be reborn. At least, her heart was on the starting line while the rest of her laid sleeping.

 

Because even after she heard Joohyun’s soft spoken words and found her chest was bursting, everything she wanted—needed—to say came out in weak, useless breaths. Her body felt foreign, her thoughts caged behind her unmoving mouth. More than ever she wanted to run right into her arms, but she spent the little energy she had moving her hand and all she could do now was pray that Joohyun could read the love in her eyes.

* * *

 

To be holding Kim Yongsun was a dream she never wanted to wake from. To find her melted peacefully in her arms was a dream she dared not dream. Byulyi smiled against her cheek—it really was this easy wasn’t it? Or perhaps it would be easy if the overpowering scent of the sleeping vampire had not been a war of wills for the last fifteen minutes.

 

But what could she do when Yongsun’s walls finally came tumbling down as she embraced her open-heartedly. What could she do when she finally asked her to stay? It took everything not to kiss her right then and there. At the time, at least, it seemed to take everything. Little could she have known that, only several minutes later, she would be laying on the hospital bed with her hand on her stomach, pressed so closely against her back that she didn’t even know where her own outline began. Most torturous of all was the scent—a whole faceful of the very scent that tempted her to move her hands anywhere but the safety of Yongsun’s stomach.

 

Byulyi closed her eyes and hoped her hands weren’t as clammy as she felt. One false move and her inhibitions could destroy everything they’ve painstakingly built. She willed her mind to think about nothing but emptiness. Nothing exists around her: not scents, not people, not war, and certainly not beautiful, vampires softly pulsating with life beneath the thin fabric separating their skin.

 

No, perhaps she needed to think about _something_ to anchor her down. She had exams coming up. Commercial law—this class was one of her biggest hurdles just yesterday, but she suddenly couldn’t recall a damn thing. The distraction lasted all of two seconds before she officially declared it a dead end.

 

Perhaps she needed something abstract. Ideas like happiness and love, two things she felt strongly. Inevitably, as it often did these days, the thought led her back to Yongsun. This time, however, she surrendered to them without guilt and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

 

To be holding the hand of her childhood best friend again was a dream Joohyun never wanted to wake from. To find her fingers wrapped in her own, her emotions out on display, was a dream she dared not dream. Joohyun leaned over and planted a kiss on Seungwan’s forehead. Seungwan exhaled once more, and brushed her forefinger against the back of Joohyun’s hand.

Joohyun wanted more than anything to line up the love in their pupils and kiss her right then and there, if not for the mask and the white shell around her legs that reminded her of the damage she’d done.

 

Suddenly, the door opened and, met by the disapproving glare of the serpentine doctor, the moment was gone. “Still here?” He grumbled.

 

Yesterday’s Joohyun would’ve throttled the doctor for such rudeness. Last week’s Joohyun would’ve crushed him more subtly. Today’s Joohyun, however, was—although uplifted by Seungwan—worn down by the weight of sadness and guilt, and simply too sleep-deprived to fight any longer.

 

“Take care of her,” she told him in her quiet way.

 

The doctor nodded, his features softening. “She’ll be just fine, Miss Bae.”

* * *

 

Several hours later, Byulyi returned to the hospital with a duffle bag strapped across her back. Her steps were airy and her smile almost inappropriately wide as she approached the waiting room, where the elk-lady promised she’d fetch her. She must’ve slept for only an hour, but she could not recall ever feeling so energized. Since her awakening, she’d bid her goodbye to Yongsun with a kiss and a promise to return with her things. The promise, she hoped, would be the first of many in their apprehensive relationship. Truthfully, she was just happy she managed to retain enough control over her senses.

 

When she entered, however, all the bubbly feelings halted when she met Joohyun’s piercing eyes. The indomitable siren sat on one of the yellow chairs with crossed arms, still as a hunting hawk. Everyone around her kept a careful distance and a wary eye, but Byulyi understood the darkness under her eyes and, exchanging a nod, made her approach.

 

“How are you, unnie?” Byulyi said, sitting two seats away. “Did you manage to sleep at all?”

 

Joohyun shook her head. “Tell me, Byul—there’s something I don’t understand. And you...you’re what people in the olden days would call passionate, aren’t you?”

 

Byulyi turned to her, though she did not meet her eyes. “Well, I-I don’t know about that...” Sucking in a breath, she asked. “Is something bothering you?”

 

“Are you aware of my powers, Byul?” Joohyun asked with a grave expression.

 

Byulyi unshouldered the bag and dropped it in the empty chair beside her. “From what Yongsun-unnie has suggested...your power involves singing,” she said with a shrug. “She said it very quickly, but she seemed kind of panicked about it. Something about you and me being...together.”

 

Joohyun, leaning on her hands with her elbows on her knees, wore an incredulous expression as she quietly regarded Byulyi. Byulyi pulled back slightly, suddenly compelled to sit up straight under Joohyun’s intense scrutiny. It was a true mystery how the older siren was able to remain so pretty, yet so menacing at such an early hour. “W-what is it?” Byulyi mumbled.

 

And if Byulyi wasn’t—for once—wearing her glasses, she would’ve sworn she’d made up the barest hint of a smile, flashing in and out of the night sky like a shooting star.

 

“Is that what she was worried about?” Joohyun thought out loud. She shook her head, the little smile circling back for a moment once more. “That idiot.” Addressing Byulyi with an open palm, she went on: “Your guess is correct—I’m glad to see that you are less of an idiot than I thought, though I suppose the bar is low.” Byulyi’s ears flattened slightly, though she said nothing. “I’m joking,” Joohyun told her. “All of this was bullshit, wasn’t it? So easily avoided with a little grace. And yet here we are. I’m tired, and I don’t want to fight you anymore. I’ll try to be nice. For Yongsun’s sake if nothing else. ‘Try’ being the key word.”

 

Byulyi blinked. “T-thanks...I think?”

 

“Anyway, I digress. Let me explain. My powers, you see, allow me to attract anyone I want with a simple song. It’s a temporary effect, but I’m sure you’re well aware of the rumours.” Byulyi froze, unsure whether nodding or shaking her head would make her angrier. Fortunately, Joohyun went on and she relaxed into her chair. “So, here’s my conundrum. If one is immune to the effects of such an inconvenient curse, why would one pretend to be under this spell?”

 

Byulyi toyed with the strap of her bag as she thought about this. She was sure she understood the context behind this question yet did not want to risk Joohyun’s wrath by revealing too much. “So, um, just to get this straight… you sang to someone, but even though they weren’t affected by your song, they still pretended to be in love with you?”

 

“Yes, exactly. Why would anyone do that?”

 

Byulyi scratched her neck. “I...don’t know if this is a trick question or anything,” she said carefully, “but maybe they’re not pretending? Like maybe they’re just in love with you?”

 

“Well, yes, I’ve considered this,” Joohyun replied, leaning her cheek onto a closed fist. “But why pretend to be affected by the curse at all? That’s what I don’t really understand. You’re a passionate one, aren’t you? Would you do that?”

 

“I’m starting to feel like passionate is not a compliment, unnie,” Byulyi said with a lopsided smile, “but I don’t know. Maybe I would? I mean...there are so many variables.”

 

“Variables?” Joohyun scoffed. “You sound like our vampire princess.”

 

“Well I...I just think it depends, you know?” Byulyi tried to explain with an uneasy laugh. “I guess...if it were me and Yongsun-unnie, I’d go along with it if it made her happy. Or if that’s the only way I can be close to her, I’d probably do it.”

 

“Some people would say you’re an idiot for pretending all these years and not moving on,” Joohyun mumbled.

 

Years? Ah—this is what she’s really worried about, isn’t it? Byulyi thought with a small smile. “Yes, but I’ve been called an idiot for smaller crimes,” she replied. “People have done crazier things just to be able to breathe the same air as the one they love.”

 

Joohyun raised a brow. “Waxing poetic _and_ getting cheeky with me now, are you?”

 

There was a moment of understanding—a truce, perhaps—between them in that brief exchange, and Byulyi suddenly found herself laying down her shields. Maybe it was the hollowed circles under her bright eyes, or the furrowed brow, or the folded-up body, or how genuinely confused she seemed to be about Seungwan’s feelings. Regardless, the sense of camaraderie that grew from this emboldened her to reach over and place a hand on her shoulder.

 

Which immediately earned a smack across her head with a wing.

 

“Sorry, reflex,” Joohyun apologized with smile.

 

Though she didn’t seem very sorry at all, Byulyi was happy to see her relax enough for the smile to turn into a grin, if even for a moment. But just in case, she kept her hands in her lap as she continued. “I also think that I’d keep pretending because your power, well...how do I say this? I guess if I was in love with you, then I wouldn’t want to be the only one. It’s...a very vulnerable place to be. Knowing it _could_ be temporary and one-sided and maybe even meaningless for the other person—it’s really scary. Especially when sometimes I feel like she’s everything and I’m nothing.”

 

She waited half a moment for a reaction, then shook her head. “I don’t know if I’m making sense; I’m just saying whatever comes to mind now. Sorry if I didn’t answer your question. My situation is kind of different with the scent thing. Um...Oh! I have some apple juice in my bag. I brought a few boxes for Yongsun-unnie but she probably won’t be able to drink it all. Are you okay with apple?”

 

Joohyun wrapped her fingers around the juice box being pressed into her hand and thanked her before the gravity of her words sank in. “Wait,” she said only after a tentative sip. “Why are you changing the topic?”

 

Byulyi laughed sheepishly. “I guess I didn’t know what else to say? The last time we talked about love…”

 

“Right,” she murmured with a faraway look on her face. Suddenly, she straightened up and whipped around to face Byulyi with renewed vigour. “Tell me about the scent thing,” she said. “Yongsun gave me some nonsense about jasmine, but that’s not what it is, is it?”

 

Oh no, Byulyi thought, Moon Byulyi, you idiot.

 

Joohyun raised a brow. “Well?”

 

“Well...it’s...I guess I just smell her...scent...very strongly? I-I mean it’s stronger than most scents I’ve come across. I don’t really think it’s jasmine either…at least not by itself...m-maybe.” She tugged at her collar—it was getting _very_ hot and stifling.

 

“And? What happens then? Does it make you fall in love with her?”

 

At this, Byulyi grew even redder as she covered her face with a sigh. “S-sort of...um, it’s a bit more...animal? Than love, I’d say.”

 

Joohyun’s eyes widened. “Are you telling me it’s…”

 

“Ahhh! Can we not talk about this anymore?”

 

“You know I will murder you if you hurt her right?”

 

“I can control it!” Byulyi’s hands flew up in defense. “I swear, I...I’ve been trying really, really, _really_ hard to control it.”

 

Joohyun scoffed. “You better be trying. And succeeding.”

 

They descended into silence for a while then, with Joohyun sipping at her juicebox quietly and Byulyi taking deep breaths in attempt to calm down after exposing a secret she’d been hiding for so long.

 

“I have another question, if you don’t mind,” Joohyun said finally, “Do you find me intimidating, Byulyi?”

 

“Well, not as much now that I know you still bite your straw,” she replied with a somewhat nervous grin. Her attempt at being charming, however, backfired when Joohyun glared.

 

The siren then looked down at her handiwork and huffed. “I was thinking! I just needed to occupy myself while I thought about what you said. You are incredibly rude now that you’re not afraid of me. Again, I not hesitate to destroy you if you hurt my best friend, alright?

 

“Oh, I’m still afraid of you, unnie,” Byulyi said, inching slightly away in her seat to prove her point. “Don’t worry. I believe it. And I know that’s probably the nicest way you could’ve put it.”

 

Joohyun took another sip. “Correct. But I asked because I wonder if...others...find me intimidating. Enough to do as I say and pretend to be cursed? I mean, you had no problems defying me even with your tail between your legs, but not everyone is as...stubborn as you.”

 

Byulyi tapped on her knees thoughtfully. “Are you wondering if...people are scared of you enough to pretend to be in love with you...even if they’re not?”

 

“Yes.”

 

She shrugged. “Or maybe they’ve just been in love with you this whole time?”

 

Joohyun scoffed and tossed the empty juice box into Byulyi’s clumsy hands. “Please. Something more original, please.”

 

Byulyi scratched the back of her neck. “I don’t know, unnie…I-I mean I still think that maybe it was the only way they thought they could be close to you. People have done worse for love.”

 

Joohyun buried her head in her hand. “God,” she mumbled, her voice reverberating in the echo of her palm, “You sound like a broken record, but…it’s making me believe it and it’s just…It’s just too good to be true.”

 

Byulyi, who had been smoothing out the wrinkles of her shirt for the sake of something to do, dropped her hands. “I don’t really think I understand. Don’t take this the wrong way, unnie, but even though you can be a bit scary, you’re also beautiful and loyal and accomplished and, clearly, you can be kind too. Why would you be so surprised if someone fell in love with you for real?”

 

Joohyun swept a hand through her hair. “You know who I’m talking about, don’t you?” she finally sighed.

 

Byulyi bit her lip. “Um, yes, I think so. I just thought you wanted to keep it ambiguous. Were my answers too straightforward?”

 

Joohyun shook her head and scoffed. “It’s fine, I’m too tired for this anyway. You’re a clever girl, but if you knew my history with Seungwan, then perhaps you wouldn’t say these things so lightly.”

 

“I guess you’re right, but if you’ll forgive me for overstepping, unnie, you’re a lot like Yongsun-unnie in your stubbornness to...believe what you don’t really want to believe? And Seungwan is...honest, yes, but she’s also not someone who speaks her mind if she knows it will trouble others,” Byulyi said, “and for her...I kind of think she just wants to love you despite all the things you don’t think she _should_ love you for.”

 

Joohyun clenched her fist. She still didn’t understand. How could she possibly understand the guilt and the fear and the uncertainty. A girl as beautiful and kind-hearted as Seungwan—she deserved so much more. Why couldn’t this dumb werewolf understand that?

 

“Unnie? Are you okay?”

 

Joohyun shook her head. “Look, I don’t think you”—at the sight of her own ruffled feathers in her peripheral, Joohyun caught her anger and pushed it away with the needless blame— “can hear Yongsun calling for you. You...you should go.”

 

A quick glance up at the clock was enough to propel Byulyi out of her chair. “Oh no!” she cried, nearly stumbling back down again at the force of her own panic. “You’re right, the elk-lady said she—ah, but it doesn’t matter now—she must be—ahh! I-I should go—but”—she swivelled back and forth on the spot, eventually settling for a half bow toward Joohyun and a half step forward toward Yongsun before stopping and chewing her bottom lip—“Unnie, um, before I go, just...uh...believe in yourself. You and Seungwan—you both have the answers already, so just ask her if you’re not sure. And if you’re still not sure, well, um, trust her a little too! Ahhh, I’m sorry if I overstepped. I’ll go now. See you later, unnie! And don’t be afraid to be happy once in a while too!”

 

* * *

 

Joohyun, left alone in the waiting room, continued to clutch her heart and wait.

 

Don’t be afraid to be happy, she said. Oh, but she was happy. The joy in her chest had been bubbling since Seungwan’s fingers laced into her own. That little gesture alone—it was the kind of happiness she rarely dared to dream in the past, and yet, if it were true, she had put her through so, so much.

 

She waited for the guilt to settle, closed her eyes, and emptied her mind.

 

The doctors would be done with their check-up soon.

 

The courage she needed to face everything she hated about herself and her past—that would arrive soon. Byulyi was right—maybe it was just love. it didn't have to be so complicated, right?

 

In the meantime, she stared at the palms of her hands, as if they held both Seungwan’s love and sacrifice.

 

She’ll hear her pretty voice again soon, and then she will know for sure.

 

For now, all she could do was lean back, let her heart go, and wait.

 

* * *

 

Byulyi, racing through the hall, smiled so brightly she received more than one disapproving glance as she passed distraught patients and worn out employees. Still, she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so light on her feet and so happy.

 

“Good morning, unnie,” she practically sang, as she marched into the room. “Are you ready to g—”

 

But the sight before her put both mind and body to a screeching halt.

 

For the rest of her life, she would recall this memory unfolding in slow motion.

 

Yongsun stood at her window, her arms above her head, mid-motion as she pulled her blinds up. The morning breeze shook through her sun-lit tresses, almost gold in the light. The white scrubs were too big at the shoulders, yet they rose up ever so slightly to reveal a sliver of skin, just enough to push Byulyi back a step with a swallow. Yongsun turned around then, and her eyes lit up, a blinding smile quickly following suit.

 

“Good morning to you too, Byulie,” she said, ducking her eyes and tucking her hair behind her ear.

 

Simple as it was, she’d never forget the memory of the most beautiful woman in the world sharing a warm, almost domestic, greeting.

 

“G-good morning,” Byulyi replied dumbly.

 

Yongsun laughed and stepped away from the window. “You said that already.”

 

Byulyi shook herself out of her trance. “Sorry,” she murmured under her breath, “You were just so beautiful.”

 

Yongsun blushed. “Aigo, I don’t even have makeup on.”

 

Her wide eyes snapped up. “S-sorry, I didn’t...I didn’t mean to say that o-out...loud.” Before Yongsun could reply, she suddenly found herself cradling an armful of a heavy, purple bag. “I packed some of your things,” Byulyi said quickly, steadying Yongsun with a sheepish smile. “I threw in some snacks. Um, in case you were hungry…”

 

“Thank you,” Yongsun smiled, clutching the bag against her chest. Then, without a moment’s hesitation to deliberate, she reached up and properly thanked her with a kiss on the cheek.

 

Byulyi’s face flared several shades redder. “M-my pleasure. Er, you’re welcome. It was no problem?” she stuttered with her hand on her face.

 

Yongsun grinned.

* * *

 

Joohyun stood.

 

Tired of waiting, she marched through Seungwan’s door and stood at her side. It was just the two of them among the quiet hum of machinery.

 

“Wan-ah,” she said, brushing a strand of hair out of her eye. This time, her chest rose and fell wth the steady rhythm of her even breaths, and she did not try to wake her. “I don’t know why you pretended to fall in love with me, or how you truly fell in love with me in the first place. You deserve so much more, and yet you’re here, waiting to be mine. And yet here I am, still having my doubts.”

 

She bent over, careful of the tubes, and pressed her lips against her forehead. “Son Seungwan,” she whispered, “you may not hear this—you may not even want this—but I promise you that no matter what, I will love you and protect you. I’ll never let anyone hurt you. Especially not me.”

 

Joohyun grinned. How could simple words make everything so easy?

 

Light filled her chest, shrugging off the years of secrets she’d weighed down inside. “When you wake up, I might have to rely on you a little more. But hopefully…hopefully, you can rely on me too.” She kissed her brow once more. “I love you, Wan. And I promise you that the next time you open your eyes, nothing will be the same. Our world—it will be different. I’ll be a different person—a better person—because I’ll have you by my side.”

 

* * *

 

Even though Yongsun had woken up in a hospital bed this morning, just seeing Byulyi’s pink yet still remarkably handsome face somehow made everything just a bit brighter. She studied Byulyi’s quizzical face and thought back to the nap she’d taken only two hours ago, and the way she’d fit so comfortably against Byulyi’s longer frame, and how natural it felt to simply love and be loved. Was it possible to be this happy every morning?

 

“Unnie?”

 

Yongsun shook her head, dropped her bag on the floor, and wrapped her arms around Byulyi’s waist.

 

“Byul-ah,” she said into her shoulder, “is it possible that I’ve fallen more in love with you in the last few hours? What did you do to me?”

 

“Ah jeez, what are you saying?” she replied, smiling as she braved her scent and wrapped her arms around her. “Somehow, when I came in, I was thinking the exact same thing. This is weird, isn’t it?”

 

“It’s nice. I thought I would be more scared, but...you make it really easy.”

 

“Yeah,” Byulyi said, kissing her softly, “it’s really nice.”

 

* * *

 

Two weeks later, a gentle breeze blew over the pegasus’ plateau. Beneath the white clouds and the blue sky, Byulyi waded through the grass with a rolled-up blanket under one arm. The path before her had, ever since Yongsun’s initial rejection, become so familiar that she could almost accurately trace the erratic flight patterns and feeding times of the local pegasus herds. It was hard to believe that in such a short time she’d reconciled her love in the hospital room, reclaimed her roommate, _and_ nearly fail her exam if not for several late night studying sessions of the painfully unsexual kind. But , most of all, to be so openly loved and in love with Yongsun was beyond anything she _could_ have predicted.

 

The kind of bliss she experienced every day was filled to the brim with so much to love.

 

She loved their first Monday together, waking up to see Yongsun’s sleeping face from across the room. Tuesday, they pushed their beds together. She didn’t sleep, but taming the scent was becoming a little easier. Besides, just the simple act of fitting their bodies together made her happy.

 

She loved the lunch they had on Wednesday in the cafeteria. Yongsun had kimchi jigae—a grain of rice had glued itself to her cheek, and she’d been adorably flustered when Byulyi reached across the table to wipe it away. She had—

 

Well, she couldn’t remember what she ate that day, but she _did_ recall how cute Yongsun looked when the soup had been a bit too spicy for her after a while.

 

She loved watching her open emotions when they visited Seungwan on Thursday for the first time as a couple. She loved the sound of being called a couple. She loved the fact that _Yongsun_ had called them a couple. Seungwan was barely awake, but starry-eyed nonetheless. Even Joohyun, like a gargoyle standing vigilant beside Seungwan, couldn’t resist a smile when they came into the room holding hands. And she definitely loved the way Yongsun so adorably gushed about Joohyun and Seungwan from Thursday to Friday.

 

From Saturday onwards, Yongsun’s private study space became heaven and hell: it was the perfect study space, comfortable and quiet, and the perfect place for a battle of wills. Yongsun’s scent, mixed with the old books and the floral candles, proved the most difficult test of all. A test she ended up passing, thankfully, but not without excruciating amounts of self-control and—thanks to a suggestion from Hani—bowls of roasted chestnuts to mask the scent. Still, Byulyi couldn’t remember a single moment when she wasn’t smiling.

 

“Slow down, Byul!”

 

The grass rustled behind her, closer and closer until she felt a familiar hand grab her own and a familiar scent wafting gently on the breeze. She turned and grinned upon seeing the muse of all her thoughts, whose puffed-out cheeks were pink from running. “You were being slow, unnie,” she teased. In one quick motion, she dropped the blanket in her arm, tugged the protesting vampire toward her, and picked her up.

 

Yongsun shrieked, wrapping her arms and legs around Byulyi for fear of falling. Her voice carried louder still across the quiet field when Byulyi spun her around, laughing. “Put me down, you idiot!” she cried, thrashing a fist against her shoulder.

 

“Nope,” Byulyi grinned. “This is your punishment.”

 

“What did I do?” she cried, hitting her a few more times for good measure.

 

“Isn’t it because you wanted to finish your chapter that we’re late?” Byulyi said, snuggling her face into the crook of her neck. “You’re lucky no one is here yet.”

 

“Excuse you.” They turned to the direction of the new voice. A few metres away, barely visible behind the long grass save for her glaring eyes, sat Hyejin. “Wheein is sleeping because you guys took so damn long. You two are a really disgusting couple, you know that?”

 

They blushed and slowly untangled from each other. “Jeez, Hyejin, how many times are you going to say that?” Byulyi said, picking up her towel with an awkward chuckle.

 

“Let’s face it, unnie, it’s not like it changes anything. You two just get more and more disgusting every day.”

 

“I hope it doesn’t make you uncomfortable,” Yongsun said, smiling as they approached.

 

“Of course not, unnie,” Hyejin replied, her tone almost sickly sweet when she addressed Yongsun. “I’m happy that you’re happy. Ow!” Suddenly, a hand flew seemingly out of nowhere and slapped itself square on her face. “Wheein-ah! What are you doing?” she cried vehemently.

 

Wheein sat up just as the two older women arrived and bowed politely as she always did.

 

“You picked a good spot, Wheein,” Yongsun said, gesturing to the small tree providing a little bit of shade in the small clearing.

 

Despite her grogginess, Wheein lit up like a puppy being praised for the first time. “Yes!” she said, withdrawing her hand from Hyejin’s face to point in the direction behind them. “There’s a pond just over there, but a flock of young pegusus are playing right now. We thought we could move our things over there later if we wanted to be closer to the water.”

 

“For the record,” Hyejin intervened, “I found this spot, unnie.”

 

“Well, I picked it.”

 

Byulyi quirked a brow. Without a word, she slowly and deliberately wrapped an arm around Yongsun’s waist and pulled her a step closer, which did not go unnoticed. Wheein and Hyejin glanced at each other, mirroring mischievous grins widening across their faces.

 

“Unnie, we made food! Come sit with us!” Before either Byulyi or Yongsun knew what was happening, they peeled her away from Byulyi’s warmth and set her down on the grass with them, fussing and competing for praise as they clamoured around her almost in unison.

 

“G-guys, w-wait,” Byulyi said weakly. Yongsun flashed an apologetic smile, but Hyejin simply grabbed the towel from her arm and rolled it out while she and Wheein enthusiastically took turns fishing for Yongsun’s smile.

 

“Unnie, I love your dress. You’re so pretty today,” one would say.

 

“You’re always pretty, unnie, but the way your skin looks so refreshed—you’re extra pretty today,” the other would retort.

 

Thankfully, it wasn’t long when their picnic was interrupted Seulgi’s overexcited voice charging toward them. She burst into the clearing with a mile-wide grin, greeting everyone with a hug before throwing both arms around Byulyi’s neck and jumping on her back.  

 

“Woah!” Byulyi stepped back and hooked her arms under her legs just in time to catch the two of them. “Somebody is happy,” she said with a snicker. “You’re more energetic than normal, aren’t you, Seul?”

 

“Yep!” Seulgi declared. “Carry me, unnie!”

 

Seulgi bounced around like an excited child, tugging at her shoulders without regard for neither gravity nor Byulyi’s clumsiness. “Aish!” Byulyi cried, wobbling back and forth to balance the violent force of her friend’s excitement. “What are you doing? Be careful!”

 

 

“Yes, what _are_ you doing, Seulgi?” Yongsun asked. Though she was smiling sweetly all the same, Wheein and Hyejin caught the borderline murderous intent in her eyes.

 

“Er, Seulgi-unnie, maybe you should stop climbing Byulie-unnie,” Wheein said, with a nervous glance at Yongsun.

 

“Before someone gets hurt,” Hyejin agreed.

 

“Okay!” Oblivious, Seulgi jumped off and threw her arms up in the air with a little spin. “Ahhh, I’m just so happy!” she cried, “All my favourite people are here. Ah—wait!” Eyes suddenly wide, she leapt back into the long grass. “Hurry up, unnie!” Her voice, already far away, echoed and was answered by a distant whinny from the nearby pond.

 

“She’s extra loud today, isn’t she?” Byulyi laughed as she watched a hand bounce up from the long grass.

 

Yongsun came up from behind her and hooked her chin on her shoulder. “I guess it has been a while since we’ve all been together like this.”

 

“Unnie,” Byulyi said, “were you...jealous?”

 

“What?” Yongsun said, straightening up just long enough to slap her on the shoulder. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

 

“Yeah, it’s not like you were much better,” Hyejin chimed in with a smirk. “Should’ve seen your face earlier.”

 

Just then, the grass rustled, and out came Seulgi once more. “Look who I found wandering around!” she said, opening her arms toward the grass, as if presenting an award. “Ta-dah!”

 

And into the clearing came an exasperated Joohyun, wheeling a grinning Seungwan in a surprisingly mundane black wheelchair “Hello everyone!” Seungwan greeted an enthusiastic wave.

 

“Unnie!” Wheein cried, leaping onto her lap in tanuki form. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Ahh, it’s nice to see you all again,” Seungwan said, picking Wheein up like a cat. “I really missed being outside with everyone, but otherwise, I feel great!”

 

Behind her, Joohyun frowned. “Wan-ah, I brought you here to have fun, but you’re not going to overwork yourself, alright? As soon as you feel tired, I’m taking you back. You need to be careful with your legs too. Wheein, you’re heavy, so get off.”

 

“It’s okay, unnie, you don’t have to worry so much. I’ll be fine,” Seungwan said with a smile. Still, she released Wheein, who promptly returned to Hyejin’s lap, crawled up her back, and settled on her shoulder like a big, furry backpack.

 

“Joohyun-unnie hasn’t stopped complaining about how un-wheelchair-friendly the campus is for a full week now. She’s been so protective that even Athena is kind of afraid of her, so I don’t think she’ll stop worrying, Wan,” Seulgi snickered.

 

Seungwan raised her arms and turned to smile at Joohyun. At the familiar signal, the siren’s features softened as she rounded the wheelchair and scooped Seungwan up into her arms. It was almost comical, if it weren’t so surprising, to see the tiny woman hold her so effortlessly. Seungwan, of course, couldn’t care less about how they looked to the others with her arm wrapped around Joohyun’s neck, smiling from ear to ear as she laid her head on her shoulder.

 

“I’m not going to apologize for the failures of this institution,” Joohyun huffed. “Especially not toward my dear, sweet Seungwan.” To punctuate her point, she kissed her sweetly, prompting a muffled squeal from beside her that turned everyone’s heads.

 

“Seul, you’re ruining the moment,” Byulyi laughed.

 

Seulgi followed Joohyun as she carried her to the blanket. “You don’t understand, unnie—I’ve been waiting for this. _All. My. Life._ ” When Joohyun had settled onto the blanket with Seungwan in her lap, Seulgi hugged them and kissed them both on the cheek. “Aren’t they so cute?”

 

Byulyi shook her head with a smile. “We know—you’ve said a million times.”

 

“Also, we have eyes too,” Yongsun chuckled.

 

“Geez, Seul, you’re so embarrassing,” Seungwan said with a grin. “But in a weird way, I’m happy for you too. You’ve always been our biggest cheerleader, and I love you for that.” Seulgi squealed once more and hugged them both.

 

“Wan’s right, Seul. You’ve been through so much with us over the years,” Joohyun said. She ruffled her hair and grinned. “We love you, Seul.”

 

Seulgi gaped at her two childhood friends. “This is the best day of my life,” she whispered in disbelief. She sniffled and hugged them both for a second time. Squishing her face between Joohyun and Seungwan’s, she cried, “I love you two so much!” She squeezed them so tightly that even Joohyun began to wince.

 

“Seul—”

 

“I’M SO HAPPY YOU’RE TOGETHER!”

  
“Seul…let go now. Please.”

 

“Well, I won’t lie. It’s nice watching Hyun so tied up around someone else’s little finger for a change,” Yongsun added as they watched the display. “You’re going to rule the world someday just to make sure nobody looks at Seungwan the wrong way.”

 

“And _you_ , Yongsunssi, have gotten much ruder,” Joohyun retorted, sticking her tongue out as she combed Seungwan’s hair with her fingers. “Laugh if you want, but I’m not letting anything happen to the love of my life. Aigo, Seulgi, you’ve made Wan’s hair so messy. She worked hard on it, you know?”

 

Seulgi blushed and sat down beside Joohyun and Hyejin. “Sorry, unnie, I’ll try to contain my excitement over here.” Hyejin gave her a smile and a pat on her knee, which promptly washed out the embarrassment.

 

“I’m not complaining,” Seungwan continued with a grin. “I mean, Joohyun-unnie is so cool and beautiful and smart and”—she blushed when she found all eyes on her— “cool, okay? I’m the luckiest girl in the world. Especially when I kind of thought I’d have to go my whole life stealing her affection with my rabbit form. Since I can’t really transform while my legs are healing, it’s nice to be able to sit in Hyun’s lap like this. It’s almost like I’m a rabbit again!”

 

“I’m pretty sure she wasn’t thinking about rabbits when she’s holding you, unnie. Like ever. If you know what I mean,” Hyejin smirked. “Cute as your animal forms are, I’d never cuddle a random tanuki that wasn’t Wheein.”

 

“I’d kill you if you do,” Wheein said matter-of-factly.

 

“Jeez, what are you saying?” Seungwan said, chuckling uneasily.

 

She looked up at Joohyun, who pinked slightly while feigning indifference with a shrug. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time,” she said simply.

 

Yongsun laughed and hooked her arm around Byulyi’s. “It’s hard to believe you’re the same person I’ve known to be in denial since first year, Hyun. Seungwan, she used to talk about you and Seulgi all the time, but even before I saw you two in person, it was obvious how much she wanted to—”

 

“Yah!” Joohyun cried. “Just stop talking, Yong.”  

 

“Oh! Seungwan was the same!” Seulgi said happily. “Back in high school, we used to always talk about—”

 

“Seulgi!” Seungwan shouted. “D-don’t! Everything I told you, I told you in confidence!”

 

Seulgi blinked. “But Wannie, you’re dating now, so nothing is really a secret anymore, right? Like when you used to ask me what kind of lipstick Joohyun-unnie wore and stuff, it doesn’t really matter since I’m pretty sure you’ve seen her lipstick collection by now.”

 

Seungwan flushed crimson. “T-that’s not…oh my god, Seulgi, just stop, okay?”

 

Joohyun tilted her head to try to meet Seungwan’s nervously wandering eyes. “You were interested in my lipstick? How come?”

 

“No reason,” she mumbled, fidgeting with her sleeve.

 

Joohyun frowned. “What? Why?”

 

“Hyun-ah…” Yongsun said, shaking her head, “are you that dense?”

 

“What’s happening?” Seulgi asked with an uneasy smile. “Did I say something wrong?”

 

“It’s okay, Seungwan-unnie,” Hyejin told her with a mischievous grin, “there’s nothing wrong with fantasizing about making out with a girl you’ve been in love with forever by thinking about her lip colour on you. In various places.”

 

“Hyejin!” Seungwan cried, covering her face. “S-stop saying weird things!”

 

Seulgi’s eyes bulged. “Oh my god,” she said, in an almost perfect imitation of Seungwan’s North American accent, “I _did_ say something wrong. B-but you never told me what the information was for! It’s more obvious when you ask me what she’s wearing.”

 

“Kang. Seul. Gi!”

 

Joohyun rested her chin on Seungwan’s shoulder and wrapped her arms around her waist to calm her down. “Is this true, my innocent, little Wannie?” she whispered. “My lipstick…in various places?”

 

“Why is this happening to me?” Seungwan moaned quietly to herself. To Joohyun, she quietly grumbled, “I was in love with you for a long time too, okay?”

 

“Hey, maybe we should all eat something and stop talking about this,” Byulyi said, gesturing emphatically at the picnic basket.

 

“Buuuuut speaking of long-term unresolved tension,” Hyejin went on loudly, “I want to hear about the good stuff.” Byulyi groaned and received a comforting pat on the arm from Yongsun. They both knew, of course, where this was going.

 

“Hyejin, no—"

 

“The sex!” Hyejin insisted, waving Byulyi off. “How is it? How far have you gone? Is it mind-blowing?”

 

“Hyejin!” A crowd of voices cried.

 

“What? It’s been two weeks! You guys have worked your asses off to get to this point, so I _need_ to know. Tell. Me. Everything!

 

“W-Wheein-ah—!” Byulyi said with a tomato-red face. “Tell her to stop!”

 

Wheein, who had been quietly sitting on Hyejin’s shoulders eating a sandwich, blinked her shining black eyes. “But I want to know,” she said innocently. “Seungwan-unnie, have you guys done it yet?”

 

Seungwan’s eyes grew wide. “W-wha—well I’m not…” she began, anxiously playing with the ribbon on Joohyun’s shirt as she rambled. “Well, I’m, uh, still healing, but, ah…oh, gosh, why is everyone picking on me today? I mean…I…I don’t know if this counts...the two of us…we—”

 

Joohyun slapped a hand over her mouth. “Yes,” she said calmly. “She means yes.”

 

Silence.

 

Hyejin raised a brow. “Why are you two being so weird about it?”

 

“Seulgi’s here and she’s our baby,” Joohyun deadpanned. It was a blatant lie, and everyone was waiting. They turned to Seulgi for answers, but she provided nothing more than a nervous laugh.

 

Byulyi, in attempt to draw attention away from the increasingly uncomfortable couple, cut in hurriedly: “Uh, well, we’re...taking our time.” After all, Byulyi was, unbeknownst to both Joohyun and Seungwan, the only one who knew of their brief sexual past. Though she did not know about anything beyond the one night she’d witnessed, it was a strange secret she felt bound to keep.

 

“Seriously?” Hyejin said. “I don’t believe you. I mean, you two are _disgusting_.”

 

“We’re sharing a bed,” Yongsun supplied with a sheepish smile, “but she’s right. We’re taking things slow.”

 

Byulyi’s act of kindness, however, backfired when Joohyun’s brows nearly shot up to her hairline. “Moon Byulyi, you poor thing,” Joohyun said incredulously. “Haven’t you told Yong what her scent does to you? I’m sure she can guess, but does she know—”

 

“U-unnie! Please stop!” Byulyi cried, waving her arms. “Can we please stop talking about this now?”

 

They laughed when she sought out Yongsun’s wide eyes for help, but Yongsun’s brows were furrowed. “You told me it made you a little crazy, but I thought…”

 

“Oh, you sweet, innocent idiots,” Hyejin snickered.

 

“Please stop talking about this,” Byulyi pleaded, slapping a hand over her eyes.

 

“Yes!” Seungwan said with a sympathetic smile. “Let’s talk about something else.”

 

“Perhaps we should eat,” Yongsun said.

 

“Ah! Yes! Unnie, I’m hungry,” Seungwan said. Almost immediately, Joohyun was commanding for drinks and sandwiches to be distributed and, when Seungwan gave the word, not even Hyejin’s loudest protests could distract a woman on a mission. The topic was soon forgotten as everyone else began feeling the demand of their stomachs and began crowding around the food.

 

While everyone else’s attentions were on the picnic basket, she grabbed Byulyi by the elbow before she can join the fray for food, and whispered, “We should talk about this.”

 

“Right now?”

 

Yongsun nodded.

 

Byulyi flushed. “I-it’s really not a big deal, unnie,” she whispered back. She reached up and tried to smooth out the wrinkles in her furrowed brow, but when she continued to pout, she sighed and pulled her into the grass by the hand, ignoring the curious, prying eyes of their friends.

 

In their own, private world surrounded by the tall yellow-green grass, Byulyi set Yongsun in front of her behind the shade of a nearby tree far from the din of their friends. “Unnie,” she said seriously, “you know I’d never do anything you don’t want me to right?”

 

“Of course, Byul. I know you’d never hurt me. But,” she said, dropping her smile, “I don’t want to hurt you either. I’m sorry I didn’t think about your feelings. We’ve been spending so much time together that I’d kind of forgotten about the scent thing…”

 

“No, no, no, don’t apologize, unnie. That’s a good thing,” Byulyi said with a sheepish grin. “I’m learning to control it. And I think I’m getting better, so please don’t worry.”

 

“But...out of curiosity…after what Joohyun said…I couldn’t help but wonder…” Yongsun murmured, her eyes dropping to the finger that had found its way to playing with Byulyi’s shirt button, “what exactly goes through your mind when the scent becomes...too much?”

 

The breezy plateau suddenly felt like a savannah, her entire body burning at the suggestiveness of her voice and the sudden intensity of her scent. “U-unnie, I’d...u-um, I would rather n-not say,” she stammered with her arms stiffly down at her side.”

 

Yongsun chuckled as she pressed a palm to her chest. “I’m just saying,” she purred, flashing her fangs, “you don’t have to be so...in control...all the time.”

 

“O-okay,” she whispered. Before she could say any more, Yongsun pressed her lips onto hers, gently at first, but quickly and aggressively gaining heat as she pushed her further into the grass. It was a side of her vampire princess that she’d never seen and was wholly unprepared for, yet found herself irrevocably in love with.

 

She hadn’t thought about whether Yongsun had been holding back, much less how _much_ she seemed to have held back. She threw her arms around her and kissed her back deeply. Her desperate fingers reached for the zipper on the back of Yongsun’s dress. Her own shirt buttons popped open one by one, when suddenly—

 

A familiar scream came sailing over the long grass, jolting them apart as if they’d been discovered.

 

“That’s my sandwich!” Hyejin screeched. “Give that back, unnie!”

 

They looked around and sighed in relief when they saw only their swollen lips and rumpled clothes.

 

“Wow, they’re loud, aren’t they?” Byulyi said, laying her forehead on Yongsun’s.

 

“We should get back, shouldn’t we?” Yongsun replied, laughing. “They’re going to tease us so much.”

 

“Yeah, but we’re two fools in love. They’ll understand.” Byulyi picked up her hand and grinned.

 

* * *

 

At the end of the night, a small, blue campfire burned brightly in their clearing. Hyejin and Wheein had brought marshmallows and Seungwan her guitar. The starry evening was all music and quiet laughter. Joohyun slept, breathing lightly, on Seungwan’s shoulder while Yongsun sang softly with Hyejin and Wheein. Byulyi, however, was standing by the marshy pond a few metres away, sitting on a rock with her hands in her pockets.

 

“Here you are, unnie.” A familiar presence came up from behind her and dangled a cold bottle by her face.

 

She shook her head and grinned. “Ah, it’s Seulgi,” she said, murmuring her thanks as she accepted her gift. “What’s this? Beer?”

 

Seulgi took a seat beside her and waved her own bottle with a lopsided smile. “Wheein said you liked this brand,” she said proudly.

 

“Nn, she has a good memory. We should go drinking more often,” Byulyi mused to herself.

 

Seulgi clanked her glass against Byulyi’s, her face already pinker than colours the pond’s reflected moonlight could hide. “Now that you’re not mopey anymore, we can all go drinking together whenever we want,” she said, leaning against Byulyi’s shoulder.

 

“You’re already drunk, Seul?” Byulyi chuckled. “Careful you don’t fall into the water.”

 

Seulgi giggled and threw a heavy arm around Byulyi’s shoulder. “No, I’m not drunk,” she replied. “Just happy. Everyone is happy. Even the little horses you love so much would be happy if they were here, so I’m happy too.”

 

“Me too, Seul.” Byulyi took a sip. “You know what?” she said as she gazed out into still waters. “The last time I was here, I stayed out all night looking for jasmine. And I was so hurt and upset and lost—it really felt like the end of the world. But even though it was so strong at the time, I could barely remember that feeling now. I can’t even remember what it was like when Yongsun unnie...wasn’t my everyday, you know what I mean? She just makes me so happy, I feel like I’m going crazy sometimes. Like is this even possible?”

 

Seulgi giggled. “The last time we were here together, I brought you kimbap and we talked about your broken heart. For a week! So, I’m very happy we could make new memories in this place.”

 

Byulyi raised her bottle and turned to wrap and arm around Seulgi, who compliantly wobbled off Byulyi side long enough to plant her face into her chest and wrap her arms around her torso.

 

“Thanks for sticking with me, Seul. And believing in me even when I was a mopey loser.”

 

“I didn’t do much,” Seulgi laughed. “Mostly I thought Joohyun-unnie and Seungwan were a lost cause and I didn’t want you and Yongsun-unnie to be like them.”

 

“Don’t say that,” Byulyi murmured, snaking her free arm, bottle and all, around Seulgi’s back. “You gave me courage when I needed it most. You’re my first and best friend here, Seulgi, and I will always love you for that.”

 

Seulgi didn’t reply, her quiet breaths warm and steady against her shirt. “Aigo,” Byulyi chuckled, dropping her arm to ruffle Seulgi’s hair with her other hand. “This kid making me say these embarrassing things just to sleep on me. Seulgi-ah, you better not be drooling on my shirt.”

 

Just then, a single pegasus approached the marsh and, looking straight into Byulyi’s eyes, spread his wings in greeting. She nodded back. He dipped his head into the water for a drink, so she raised her bottle, took a swig, and placed it beside her. Though the moment was brief, something in the encounter felt perfect. Everything in her life seemed to align, as if everything in her life happened so that she could be here in this very moment.

 

But the majestic creature, glowing white under the moonlight, disappeared as suddenly as it appeared. She searched the skies and, with a smile, saw the speck of white in the distance, like a shooting star across the plain. Secretly, she made a little wish that this kind of happiness could last forever.

 

What a beautiful world we live in, she thought as she closed her eyes.

 

“Byul-ah, what are you doing over here?”

 

Byulyi turned around and pressed a finger to her lips, nodding to Seulgi’s sleeping form slumped against her. At least, that was her intention. Instead, she turned around and froze. What she hadn’t expected was to see Kim Yongsun with the moonlight washed against her hair, the silvery outline bringing back memories of their first morning at the hospital. Even as she stood with her arms on her hips and her cheeks puffed out she was beautiful.

 

Yongsun stomped over to put her jealousy somewhere, but when she approached, Byulyi reached for her hand, and grinned up at her in her open, adorable way.

 

“W-what?” she whispered.

 

“Nothing,” Byulyi replied, swinging their hands a little. “I was just thinking, ‘ah, what a beautiful world we live in,’ then you showed up to remind me how much more beautiful it can be.”

 

“Jeez, y-you’re so cheesy, Byul,” Yongsun said, flushing brightly as she tucked her hair behind her ear with her free hand.

 

Byulyi stilled their hands and threw herself into her eyes. “I love you, Kim Yongsun.”

 

Yongsun, taken aback by the sudden confession, blinked for a moment—a moment that left a seed of doubt in Byulyi’s heart. She tightened her grip on Byulyi’s hand and kneeled down to meet her eyes.

 

Byulyi’s heart pounded.

 

“I…” Yongsun dropped her eyes, her face beet red. “I love you too, Byul. More than I ever thought I was capable of.”

 

Byulyi let out a breath of relief. “You scared me, unnie. For a moment I thought I was the only one.”

 

Yongsun shook her head. “Sorry, I just...I’m not as brave as you, Byulyi. I’m not someone who can do this spontaneously, a-and we’ve never said it before. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but I didn’t know if it was too soon. This is...all very new to me, and I—”

 

“Can you say it again?”

 

Yongsun laughed, relief giving way to clarity. It never ceased to amaze her how easy things could be sometimes with Byulyi.

 

“I love you, my big, dumb werewolf.”

 

Byulyi stuck out a tongue, but her smile couldn’t be wider. She tugged at their intertwined hands and kissed her, tender and sweet.

 

“I love you too, my beautiful, vampire princess.”

 

“Good. But I want to come here and do this again. Without Seulgi next time.”

 

Byulyi chuckled quietly as she glanced at Seulgi’s squished face against her chest. “We can come here as many times as you want, my love.”

 

“Tomorrow?”

 

“Tomorrow.”

 

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR FOLLOWING ME ON THIS JOURNEY! When I started this story, I hadn't expected this to be a seven-month endeavor. I've met so many amazing people through this story, and I'll forever be grateful for that. I love you guys from the bottom of my heart. 
> 
> My plan now is to put as much energy as I can into Freedom-Bound now, so I hope you'll come meet me over there. I'd like to continued with AIU someday, maybe with a few shorts. I don't want to make promises right now, but despite the story not going how I expected to go, I really do love this world.
> 
> So, please comment, or give me a kudo! It really means the world to me!
> 
> Thank you all once again, and I hope to meet you guys again in the future!


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